The Distance Between Two (Season Six)
by Ky03elk
Summary: One scene – A thousand words. The same challenge as last year; to create a linking moment between each Season Six episode. One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.
1. Chapter 1

.

The Distance Between Two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x01 – 6x02

Valkyrie - Dreamworld

.

* * *

><p>He sits in the same metal chair that he occupied last time, and, while his first experience here was anything but pleasant, it wasn't <em>this<em>. His trepidation over being caught at the golf course, at being in the car next to a dead body as it crashed into the bus stop, over what it would mean for Kate and her job, for _them,_ was acute, but it's nothing when compared to the emotions that are racing through him now.

Panic and confusion crawl across his skin, edging closer to his neck until he can feel talons encircle his throat. They squeeze, a grip that's far too tight and a part of him whispers its hope that this is all a dream. Maybe he's actually at home? A late night of writing having left his mind drained, perhaps his body is curled around the pillow that still smells like Kate.

It's not the first time that his imagination has run away with itself while asleep. He has fallen into a darker realm before, combining close calls from their past and distorting them until a new and dangerous situation forms in his subconscious. But his dreams - his nightmares - always involve the ones he loves. Alexis not coming home, his mother announcing she's ill, Kate being shot in DC, dying alone because he's no longer her partner, no longer standing by her side prepared to do anything to save her life.

It's never him that's in trouble - he's the one left with the aftermath, trying to put one foot in front of the other, and it hits him, hard. This isn't a dream. This isn't a nightmare...

The air has stopped entering his lungs, his body turning into a statue, and for a second, it all becomes too much.

He's going to die.

Pressing down on her hand, he seeks her out, squeezes the solid lines of her fingers; he loves the way she talks with them, waves them when she's excited, wrings them together when upset, such a contrast to the Beckett he started following around all those years ago. His Beckett - not that he would ever utter those words out loud - is the woman who he'd dropped to one knee before, heart thrashing wildly as he'd asked her to spend the rest of her life with him.

The one who had said _yes_ in a truly Kate way.

Her palm warms the material above his knee, and he attempts to siphon from her the calm that she's portraying. The steady way she'd held herself walking into the interrogation room, her hand reaching for his, the "babe" that had slipped past her lips, the smooth planes of her face, cool and collected. He needs that strength now, but he furrows his forehead as he stares at her. It has to be an act, a mask though, right? She's just announced that he has less than a day to live, and surely she has to be falling apart on the inside, because he is.

He can't die.

Not like this. Not from a simple bout of curiosity gone wrong. Not because he attempted to help in the only way he could - solve the case. And yes, curiosity did kill the cat, but this isn't like all the other times they'd faced death together. This isn't a bomb or an unexpected dip in the Hudson, they aren't locked in a freezer or staring down into the eyes of a hungry tiger - them against an outside force, them against the world. This is...

This is nothing like the past because they're nothing like the past.

Washington is a world away from New York. Being an agent is on a vastly different scale to being a homicide cop, and the air that was trapped in his throat exits in a huff, breaking the moment of silence between them. He was foolish to try and capture it, what they had, he'd already admitted as much to her, but surely that doesn't mean he has to pay with his life?

They have plans.

There's a date to set, vows to write - he would rather write another book - and a honeymoon to plan. He has to pick a best man - Espo or Ryan? And how does he break the news to the one not chosen? Plus, he wants to convince Kate to get married in space. She has to find the perfect wedding dress and not panic when she sees the amount of people who will no doubt end up on the guest list. She...

She can't be left a widow before she ever gets a chance to walk down the aisle.

His fingers tangle between hers as the thought rocks him to the very core of his soul, the anxiety over leaving her alone a now palatable fear, and his eyes close.

He can't leave them shut though, and they snap open with such force that he blinks repeatedly. The image of her, tears rolling down her face as she stares into his grave, appeared in the black of his vision and he will do anything to prevent it, will fight with all he has to prevent _that. _

This is their love story. Everything that they have been through - the miscommunication, the arguments, the tears - has made them stronger, and it doesn't end this way, doesn't end before they get their happily ever after. He's not going to become a token ring around her neck, a piece of metal that adds even more burden to the one that she already carries.

There's so much life still ahead of them and he will be there. He will be by her side when she brings justice to her mother, fights the war until Bracken rots behind bars. He will be her partner in life, even if he's no longer her partner against crime.

They're getting married. He's_ going_ to marry Kate, and he takes a deep breath.

The panic and confusion over what happens next hasn't left, it's still crawling across his skin, it's still clinging, nails embedded deep into his flesh, but it's her hand that holds his. It's her hand that will hold him up when the worry threatens to pull him under. It's always been her.

It will always _be_ her.

And he will live.

There's no other alternative.

* * *

><p>.<p>

The first and last chapters are interesting :/ to write as there is no time gap, although at least with this one I know what happens next ;-)  
>.<p>

you to Jo for the amazing cover art, and to both Jamie and Jo for their hard work on all twenty three chapters of this story.

Their extraordinary beta work is only eclipsed by their ability to support and shake pompoms in the face of my constant complaining. Love xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo

.


	2. Chapter 2

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x02 – 6x03

Dreamworld – Need To Know

.

* * *

><p>Curling her fingers around his forearm, Kate lists into Castle's side as his family<em> - <em>and_ Pi_ - enter the corridor that will take them to their now boarding plane. The plane that will take him home, take him away, and her eyes flutter shut until the image of him lying on the grass appears, and she snaps them back open.

"I'll call once we've all made it home in one piece. _If_ we all make it home in one piece." His eyes narrow as he stares at Alexis and her new boyfriend disappearing around the corner, and Kate forces her lips together at his vehement dislike, the bubble of laughter inside her rising as it has every time Pi entered Rick's hospital room over the last five days.

"Give him a chance, Castle," she whispers. "You never know, he might turn out to be..." Nice is probably not the word that's going to help matters, but damned if she can come up with anything else to describe the eccentric fruitarian who had arrived with Alexis and Martha.

"Yeah, _you _can say that. You don't have to live with him. He's not going to be on _your_ couch."

Her head shakes. No, he isn't.

The rooms at her new place are filled with nothing but half unpacked boxes and silence.

And the realization of what's about to happen smacks into her chest again, through her ribs until it becomes a barbed wire coil around her heart, the rusty spurs piercing the still tender flesh.

Edging her hand behind his back, she encircles him completely within her arms, her fingers gripping the soft material of his shirt as she buries her head into the arch of his neck, breathes him in, even if the smell from the hospital they'd just exited overpowers everything that makes him _Castle_.

Her fiancé.

His arms draw her closer to his chest, squeezing, although it's a poor attempt compared to what she's grown accustomed to, and it's a further reminder of how close she'd come to never having this again.

But he's better now. Well enough to fly home at least, back to New York and the loft where Martha and Alexis will pamper him until he's at one hundred percent, while she returns to work, fights the good fight for the Attorney General.

Except...

"I'll come up as soon as this new case is done."

His shirt muffles her promise, and she lifts her head, arching back enough to catch his gaze as he looks down at her. She'd purposely worn flats today for this reason, loves the height difference between them, the ability to tuck herself into his arms.

It's a reminder to never take for granted the thump of his heart against her ear, the feel of his arms around her shoulders.

In a blink of an eye he could be gone.

She nearly lost him this week.

"I'm thinking, Kate, the shower first. Then the wall? Or bed, then wall?"

Her nose crinkles as she narrows her eyes.

"What?"

"Just making a list in my head for when you get home." His shoulders lift. "I mean back to New York."

"Castle. This-" She stretches up onto the tips of her toes, her mouth drifting across his. "In your arms is home."

Crushing his lips into hers, his tongue seeks entry, and she propels herself forward, kissing him back. Kissing him with all the love that keeps her head above water, with the knowledge that he stands by her side, her solid ground in this next phase of their journey.

Her body sinks away slowly, the parting of their mouths such a hellish sensation that it rips a gasp from her lungs, and as he closes his eyes against the tears she can see pooling, she tries to be the rock that he is for her.

"Maybe I'll swing by the precinct, boss the boys around for an hour or two?"

His mouth breaks into a smile, his eyes opening, and the clear blue she sees shifts the baggage that was pushing her under.

"Now that is a good idea! I'll bring the popcorn."

A chuckle tumbles from her lips, yet the final call for his flight crashes through it and the sound dies.

"You think they miss me?"

He nods, his fingers digging into the ridges of her spine, his arms pulling her to his chest one last time, and she falls easily into his embrace.

"We all miss you, Kate." His chin settles on top of her head and the sensation of him surrounding her brands itself on her soul. "Well, I miss you the most. And we talked about this, we'll find a way, together."

What he says is true and she smiles at the knowledge. While the last five days were hardly the weekend that he'd planned for the two of them when he'd surprised her with a visit, it has granted them the time to discuss the issues that were raised across _that_ interrogation table.

Just because they're different now doesn't mean they can't be better, that they can't learn from the mistakes of their past and communicate about what they both want and need from each other.

She just wants him. Loves him.

Even if for the moment that love has to stretch across the 226 miles from D.C. to New York.

"I gotta get on that plane."

Stealing one last kiss, she whispers that love into his mouth before pulling back, her spine straight. She can stand here and wave good-bye, keep it all together because it's only distance. Her heart will ache but it won't break, he is hers after all.

"Yeah. I know. Try to stay out of trouble." Lifting an eyebrow, she stares in silence and he ducks his head for a moment, a slight pink flushing his cheeks.

"Deal. I've just got some writing and book signings to do. How dangerous could my fans be?"

She pushes the same eyebrow up a little bit more and he dots a kiss onto her nose.

"No chest signing. I promise, Beckett. Yours is the only one I want to see scrawled with my name."

Shaking her head, she smiles even as he takes a step back, a step toward the plane.

"Never gonna happen, Castle."

He grins wildly, his hand reaching between them to brush her engagement ring, the one sitting proudly on her fourth finger.

"I thought a lot of things were never going to happen."

Bringing the same hand up, she waves as the gap between them grows, his front to hers as if he's unable to turn around.

"Love you." Her words are lost to the noise around them, but he places a hand to his heart, his mouth moving to mimic her declaration.

It's enough, his love for her, the love she has for him.

It's more than enough to keep them together whatever life throws at them.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank you to all for the amazing support, and I apologise for not replying individually. With daily updates it's going to be sporadic compared to normal, but I appreciate so very much you taking the time to hit that review button xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for their hard work xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo

.


	3. Chapter 3

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x03 – 6x04

Need To Know – Number One Fan

.

* * *

><p>The noise of the packing tape stretching away from the roll breaks the silence inside Kate's D.C. apartment, and, with one hand securing it to the side of the box, he smooths it across the top before snapping the end off.<p>

They're not exactly the boxes he assumed he'd be packing when, with a trembling hand, he'd held the silver key before Kate, a big step on both their behalf taken without her knowledge.

She'd been happy though, he's sure of it…

"Castle, you don't have to do this."

Looking up, he settles back on the dining room chair he'd dragged into her bedroom, his gaze skimming over her as she stands in the doorway, the wooden frame appearing to be the only thing holding her up.

She's been so quiet about it, being fired from the AG's office, but he's seen every lingering look, every time her mouth opened before she'd closed it again, and he can wait - he perfected that a long time ago - until she's ready to say what's tangled inside her beautiful mind.

"It's no big deal, Beckett." His shoulder lifts because really it isn't. "I had to come down anyway."

As soon as the words spill from his lips, he wants to reach forward, grab them with his hands, and hold onto them tight so they can't reach her ears, but her eyes are shutting, his chances of catching them impossible.

"I just meant-"

"I know, Castle. You needed to hand back the keys and break the lease you'd signed. I…" Her eyes open, and, staring down at her fingers intertwined in a knot, she falls silent, whatever else she was going to say lost.

"It's really not a big deal, Kate." It's not a lie, but it's not one hundred percent the truth either. His powers of creativity may have run away a little after he'd found the two bedroom with the perfect study overlooking an amazingly manicured garden.

He'd imagined what it would be like to move in together.

What it would be like to officially live with Kate Beckett.

Would she have let him carry her over the threshold? Would they have gone through each room and added their own personal touches? Or would they have gone shopping together and bought new items to decorate the apartment?

Her head bobs, a barely there movement that leaves his hands curling around the packing tape, the rim digging into his palm. He just doesn't understand why the boxes are being packed and returned to her place.

Why aren't they coming straight to the loft?

"Can I ask-" Shutting his mouth, he cards his fingers through his hair. Damn, he wishes he knew where he stood in this.

"Since when do you ask permission?"

A chuckle escapes his chest, his head ducking as a grin breaks free - touché.

"You know that you could move into the loft? That you don't have to go back to your old place?"

The hints he'd scattered into their conversations since McCord had dropped her bombshell are about a mile wide, and Kate nods in confirmation.

"Your place is a little… crowded at the moment." She lifts an eyebrow, and his shoulders slump. Doesn't he know it. "And I just think that keeping my apartment is a wise decision."

His heart hurts, there's no other way he can phrase this then to simply state that he hurts that she doesn't want to be by his side day and night.

"Castle."

Pushing his head up, he stares at her silently, and she closes the space between them, her thighs embracing one of his as she stands above, her hands drifting down his shirt. "I just think that having a place to go to when we want to be a bit more… _vocal_, is a good thing."

"Huh?"

And yes, he kind of zoned out when the intoxicating scent of her clouded the majority of his working brain cells, but what?

"I'm saying that having you screaming out "apples" while Pi is on the couch could become awkward. Very awkward." Her fingers toy with his belt buckle and his hips jerk toward her touch of their own accord.

Pavlov's dog has nothing on him - classical conditioning indeed.

"And, Babe, I hate to break it to you, but you have walls that are bookshelves. Open bookshelves." A shudder runs down her body, the motion bringing her closer, and he discards the packing tape to encircle her hips. "Could you imagine looking up and seeing his head? Wondering what we were doing with fruit?"

A ripple of disgust races down his spine, the image more terrifying than walking in on his mother - just.

"I don't say apples that often. Do I?"

Her thumb and finger grasp his zipper, the backs of her knuckles knocking into him, and he squirms on the chair undecided if he should shift forward or back.

"There was the time last night when I-"

"Okay, but, Beckett, you were being really mean. And I truly thought I might explode. And not in a good way."

Her smirk portrays her thoughts on _that _matter - she was evil and they both know it - and he pulls her flat against his chest, his thigh now a seat for her to sit on.

"That's my point, Castle. I should be the only one hearing you say apples." She brushes her lips along the underside of his jaw, her teeth nipping his tender flesh, and his head falls back giving her more access, hopefully encouraging her to keep going.

If he had his way, he'd spend the rest of his life in this position.

Her in his arms.

"And you'll still be at the loft? 'Cause I can be quiet-_ish_. And there's always the bathroom and the times when everyone is out." They've come so far and the thought of going backward is more than a little distressing.

"Hey, Rick, promise. I'm gonna speak with Gates and see if I can get my job back. And I'll make sure to ask about you returning too - if that's what you want - and it'll be just like old times."

He kisses her hard against her lips because all the worrying he'd been doing was for nothing. She's in this just as much as he is, and he needs to remember that.

"Of course I want back in." Moving his lips to the pulse point beating strong within her neck, he rakes his teeth across her skin, smiling as she shivers in response. "And it'll be better. Everything's better now."

His thumb strokes the engagement ring on her finger, the warm band a symbol of all that they've overcome, and he breathes that knowledge in, until she stands, her hand reaching for the black marker he'd been writing with.

"What's in this one, Castle?"

He narrows his eyes as he searches for the information, his blood flow still traveling more south than north.

"Uh, clothes."

Scrawling across the top of the box, her body shields him from reading her words, and, finishing up, she tosses him the pen before exiting the room.

And, not that it's possible, he loves her even more.

_For the Loft._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

You make me smile the widest of smiles, even knee deep in the trudge of work and life, nothing could wipe the grin off my face today, thank you for that gift xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for their patience xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo

.


	4. Chapter 4

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x04 – 6x05

Number One Fan – Time Will Tell

.

* * *

><p>Dropping her gaze to the food Castle has placed in front of her, Kate groans, the obvious joke anything but funny.<p>

"A cheeseburger? Seriously?" Of all the food the Old Haunt can make thanks to Rick's upgrades - this is the snack he brought over for them to share?

"I like cheeseburgers."

The cushion of their booth dips a little as he sits himself down next to her, his hands reaching for his half, and she watches as he winces, the pain from the bullet making itself apparent every time he moves his upper body.

"Are you okay? Because we can go home, celebrate our return to the Twelfth another way."

Wiggling his eyebrows at her, he drops his stare inch by inch, his smile widening, and she wrinkles her nose at his transparent thoughts.

"Not like that. I was thinking a glass of red for me and some more painkillers for you."

For all that they'd laughed and made light of Castle's near miss - his 'number one' fan dotting his_ i _- in the quiet moments, she's finding it difficult to ignore the whisper of despair.

That it had come so close. That she nearly lost him. That he could have had a bullet wound to match her own.

"My idea of celebrating would be more beneficial to my future convalescence, though."

Shaking her head, she disagrees. His idea of getting better probably involves far too much activity and a naughty nurse uniform. She's having no part of _that_ plan.

"You need to rest and move without pain, and then we'll talk about your idea."

"What's Castle's idea?"

Her head jerks toward Ryan as he wiggles into the opposite side of the booth, and, making room for Espo, he continues to move around.

"Nothing."

She speaks quickly, shutting down Castle before he can open his mouth and recite their entire conversation to the boys.

Private content and all.

"You guys grabbing something to eat?" Picking up a fry, Castle draws a circle in the air before popping it into his mouth, and she follows suit, minus the waving.

"Nah, we're just here to enjoy your free beer, Bro." Espo raises his glass, the amber catching the light and she stares at him for a second as she narrows her eyes, before letting it go, looking around the bar packed with members from the Twelfth.

And the memory of Montgomery hits, hard.

Her eyes close. Castle's bullet to the chest mixes together painfully with other memories of being here, and with a thrash of her head, she rids herself of the vision.

Not tonight.

Tonight they're here to celebrate.

"So did you hear the news?" Ryan hunches his shoulders, bending at the waist, his staged whisper pulling Castle in as well, and she lists backwards at the two of them; school boys swapping gossip over the cafeteria table. "Sully disappeared."

"What?" Her elbow hits the wooden surface as she twists to face Ryan completely, her back blocking Castle's view, and her fiancé peers over her, his chin digging into her trapezius muscle.

"Was it aliens? Ninjas? No, wait," he lifts a hand, "A time traveling monk?"

Angling toward her partner, she knocks her nose into the side of his head - because, really? - but his only response is to snag a quick kiss before refocusing on Ryan and the mystery of Sully.

"I don't know. I had to go back to the precinct and grab my… I left something in the drawer-"

"You forgot your doll, didn't you?"

"Shut up, Castle." Ryan's huff of indignation is drowned out by Javi's laugh, and she lifts a hand, her fingers spreading over her lips to conceal the wide grin breaking free.

She doesn't know who should receive her sympathy though? Kevin, who's the butt of every baby joke out there? Or the doll, which is secretly passed around and mocked by those in homicide?

"Anyhow, as I was saying, I was there and your desk," his eyes meet hers, "well his desk, I mean _the_ desk was cleared out. And I asked Gates, and she said he requested a transfer back home. Apparently, since you're returning, she approved it there and then."

"That's not exactly 'disappeared', Ryan." She pats his arm before grabbing another fry off the plate.

It's sad that Sully's left without saying good-bye, and so soon, but he hasn't exactly disappeared into thin air.

"Well, he isn't about to reappear, so that makes him disappeared." Castle sides with Ryan, and she half-pivots in her seat, her spine thumping the back of the booth as she darts her stare between Ryan and Castle as they theorize.

"Yeah, what reason would he have for leaving like that? Scary ex?"

"Oooo, Ryan, maybe... maybe something he'd done that finally caught up with him. Or maybe he was a spy sent to gather intel on us?" Castle's nod is backed up by his teammate in delusion, and she closes her eyes for a moment, before opening them to focus on Espo.

The look of 'someone save me' releases the laughter that she'd been smothering and all three pairs of eyes swivel to her.

"A member of the Twelfth has disappeared! How is this funny?" Castle's shocked expression brings on another wave of amusement, and she cups the side of his face.

"I'm sure that he just wanted to go back to his old precinct and as Gates explained, with us returning he saw an opportunity to go without leaving the boys a man down."

Espo nods his agreement. "Yeah. But it's still bad form to walk out on a team and not even say good-bye."

Her eyes snap to his, the bitterness coating his statement hitting a little too close to home, and she arches an eyebrow. She thought that they'd parted on good terms, that the emotions that had flared when she'd told the boys about her leaving for D.C. had since settled.

"Espo?"

"What? It was nice having someone to boss around. Now I have to go back to Ryan." Javi's hand slaps against his partner's shoulder, and the younger detective arches away unsuccessfully.

"And who do I have?" Ryan slumps into his seat, the absence of Sully far more reaching than she could have ever suspected.

"Bro, you have Castle." Pointing to her fiancé, Espo grins, and, after a beat, Ryan joins in.

"Hey! Only Beckett is allowed to order me around." Rick's mouth opens and closes, the perfect imitation of a whale shark. "No, that came out wrong."

"No, dude, that sounds about right."

Ryan high fives Espo, appreciation for his partner's comment clear, and her eyes roll. Damn, boys.

"What I want to know is, when you said, Ryan, that he cleared my desk. Did you mean he _cleaned_ my desk?"

Ryan's head shakes, his white teeth flashing in the dim light of the bar. "Oh, Beckett. I have some bad news. You're going to need some gloves and a trash can. Probably more than one."

Oh, shit.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank you for all the grins and giggles your reviews gave me, I really appreciate them xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for the beta, you guys rock!

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	5. Chapter 5

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x05 – 6x06

Time Will Tell – Get A Clue

.

* * *

><p>His back aches. Sitting on the hard, wooden floor was never comfortable, and now the dull pain that began at the base of his spine has crept higher, flaring between his shoulder blades as he hunches forward.<p>

Not that he gets up.

He's been staring at Alexis' closed bedroom door for far too long, probably longer than what's healthy, but etched on the inside of his eyelids is the image of her as she walked out, her belongings in a box, and every time he drifts into sleep, the memory startles him awake.

_Too soon_.

"Castle?"

Jerking to his right, he spies Kate shifting from foot to foot, her head tilted as she peers down at him, and he lifts a heavy hand in greeting.

"Sorry. Go back to bed. I'll be there-"

"It's okay."

The noise of her slippers against the floorboards reverberates in the quiet loft, the sound louder than expected and it's another reminder that it's just the two of them here. With mother out and Alexis…

"Where did I go wrong, Kate?"

Her fingers slip through his hair, her nails a gentle pressure against his scalp and he lists into the sensation. She doesn't stop. Cupping the edge of his jaw, her thumb drifts back and forth, and a sigh escapes his lips as she crosses in front of him, her body coming to rest next to his.

"You haven't done anything wrong." She drops her head onto his shoulder, and he hooks his arm around her knees, lifting her into his lap.

His relationship with his daughter may be unraveling before his eyes, but he's thankful every day that Kate's here, a constant by his side.

"Thank you."

Two words that describe nothing really. Not the way he feels taller when he stands next to her. The way his heart stutters when she smiles at him. The way he loves her.

"It's just the truth, Castle."

Shaking his head, he bends forward, his lips ghosting across her cheek as he tightens his hold.

"Not for that. For being here. For being you. For saying yes when I proposed."

A chuckle rumbles through his chest at the memory of how she'd answered, especially in light of what Simon Doyle had told them. He'd never doubted that this was it, his _"third time's the charm"_, but hearing the promise of what was to be had been rather thrilling, if a little frustrating.

"I can't believe that you didn't want to find out what our kids names would be. Coming up with one was hard enough, but we'll have to think of three."

"Huh?"

Arching away from him, Kate's eyebrows draw together in that adorable way they do, and he rests his forehead on hers.

"Doyle. Senator. Three kids."

Understanding dawns in her eyes before she closes them, avoiding his explanation as she goes back to snuggling inside his arms.

"Wouldn't it be two kids, Castle?"

It's his turn to grunt in confusion as he attempts to follow her train of thought, except it's late and he's tired.

"Why two?"

"Richard Castle lives in New York with his wife and three kids." She paraphrases and he pushes his lips together, _not _pointing out the certain job title that she'd missed in her summary. "Book blurbs are general statements so 'and three kids' would count Alexis in the total."

And his heart explodes. The love he has for Kate expands until he shatters from it, his breath wedging high in his throat as she includes Alexis in the total, an idea that hadn't even occurred to him.

It's not the first time he's been oblivious to what was right in front of him.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I screwed up Alexis' birthday? She was six and everything was hard. All her friends had moms and did girly things with them. Or at least that's how it seemed to me."

His chin rests on top of Kate's head, his fingers locking together low on her thighs, and a soft hum fills the corridor letting him know that she's listening.

"So I planned her special day, decided a spa treatment at home would be perfect. Paint her nails, do her hair, you get the idea. And she breaks into tears."

The image of his little girl standing in the middle of all he'd set up, tears rolling down her porcelain skin had scarred him for a long time after the fact.

"And what happened?"

Kate's sleepy voice breaks through the haze of his memories, and his head falls back against the wall.

"She thought that I was going to make her a treasure hunt with her gifts at the end. We'd been reading _Treasure Island_, and she wanted to get the swords out and fight like pirates."

He'd done some quick thinking and fixed the disaster, made her day what she'd dreamed it would be.

If only life could be that simple now.

As much as he hopes Alexis will come to her senses while living in what's sure to be a fruit scented squalor, he doesn't need to see the future to predict that this could be a long and difficult phase for them.

"You're an amazing dad, Castle. Don't doubt that. She's fortunate to have you in her life. She just needs some time and space to see it too."

His lips turn up, even if he doesn't quite believe it - that he's anywhere close to amazing - yet, as silence makes the air thick around them, he can't stop the whispered question tugging at the corner of his mind, the fact that he hasn't had a conversation with Kate about having children of their own.

Until Simon Doyle it'd always seemed so far away.

"Do you want kids, Beckett?"

There's no answer and he angles his head down, takes in her closed eyes, the steady fall of her chest, and this time his smile is genuine. She's fallen asleep, and their discussion about being parents will have to wait for another day.

If only his thoughts could be shelved that easily.

Deep down he worries, as all parents do. About the choices that he's made, the phrases he's used, the way he's parented. Did he give her too much freedom? Too much independence growing up? Could he have been a better father? A better role model?

What would he change if he could go back in time?

More to the point, what will he change when he starts at the beginning again with Kate? When he holds a new baby in his arms and promises them the world?

His daughter's in college, is compassionate and hardworking. Loves with all her heart… even if it's to the wrong person.

Maybe he won't change a thing after all.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Hopefully everyone got a thank you last night for chapter four! I fly out later today, but thankfully it won't get in the way of posting, although with no alarm or kids to wake me, they maybe a little later than normal, lol.

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for all the polishing and stunning work they do xoxo.

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	6. Chapter 6

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x06 – 6x07

Get A Clue – Like Father, Like Daughter

.

* * *

><p>Strolling along the sidewalk, the curve of her knuckles drifts across Castle's hand, a fleeting touch that leaves her craving an intimacy that isn't available here; not when their close proximity is interrupted every other step by those hurrying along, rushing to get to appointments, meetings, jobs.<p>

It's a pace Kate's all too familiar with. Not today though.

The gentle heat of the sun warms her face as the flowing t-shirt material dances around her body, the glint of her ring casting rainbows thanks to the midafternoon light, and she's the poster child for those fortunate enough not to be at work.

Once upon a time she would have been at the precinct even if she was rostered off, but not these days. She loves moments like this, even if they are amazingly rare; the quiet bubble that surrounds her, _them_, as they wander aimlessly, finding hidden gems tucked away in side streets, admiring old architecture that branches high above.

Even with the noise, the hustle and bustle that is New York City, it's peaceful, just the two of them.

Well, normally she'd be enjoying it, today, the last several weeks, their bubble appears to be dented, like two joined together rather than a singular one that encloses them both.

"Do you mind if we stop?" Castle's question bursts her silent contemplation, and, focusing on his hand as he indicates to the newsstand, she nods, offering a smile of agreement.

"Are you after anything in particular?" Her gaze flickers across the numerous magazines available, and she reaches for a bright, glossy one, the posed bride-to-be staring back at her.

"There's a new article about tickets to space becoming available."

"Tickets to _space_?"

"Hhhmmm."

Raising an eyebrow at his reply, or lack thereof, she leaves the latest issue of _Wedding Style_, her head dipping as she attempts to focus on what he's inspecting.

_Air and Space__._What?

She can't work out why he's looking through that though and it's becoming a recurring feature of their relationship lately.

On different pages of the same book.

Releasing a sigh, she goes back to the display, her fingers skimming the cover of _Brides_.

"We should organize some venues to visit. Check out what's available. Get an idea of what we want."

It seems like a good place to start their wedding preparation; once they find a venue they'll have a better idea of the date, and they can then move on to invitations. Yes, doing things in a traditional order… sounds just like them, and a chuckle escapes.

Hardly.

"Yeah." Castle's flat tone portrays the fact that he didn't hear a word and she pivots to face him. His thumb traces the title of _Parenting, _his shoulders slumped, his forehead furrowed and her heart aches. The pain radiates off him in waves.

If only there were a way to bring him and Alexis together…

Kate's positive that his daughter is hurting over what's happened too; the silence that has stretched out since _that_ night. The details Kate received were brief but it's enough to know that the agony exists on both sides.

He hasn't been able to look at a tub of ice cream since.

"Do you have any places in mind? Venues you haven't been married in before?" She bumps her shoulder into his and he looks her way for a second, his mouth lifting in the resemblance of a smile before his face settles again, his focus shifting to the magazines.

Still not absorbing a thing she's saying.

"Espo mentioned that his apartment is free. We could hold the reception there? It would be cozy, but just how many people could possibly be attending?"

Castle nods, his hand snagging a copy of _Scientific American_, and her arms cross her chest as she leans, her stare drilling holes into the side of his head.

Not that he appears to notice.

"And Ryan offered his place for the honeymoon. It would be the pullout mattress in the living room, but he did say Jenny would be making breakfast in bed for us."

"Yeah, sounds good." He flips through the issue before coming to a stop, his eyes narrowing as he concentrates on the article, and her head tilts skyward.

Now would be a good time to bring up that damn lion canvas in their bedroom.

"Hey. Read after you buy it, Buddy."

Her stare snaps to the vendor glaring at them, his hand waving at Castle, and she half-heartedly rolls her eyes, her fingers digging into her pocket to pull out a ten dollar bill.

"Keep the change." She smiles sweetly, tampers down the urge to stick her tongue out at the man as he makes a point of depositing her money, and she turns once again toward Castle who's still completely oblivious to anything but the pages of his magazine.

"Castle?"

His head bobs but his eyes never leave the page, and she hooks her fingers into the angle of his elbow, leads him to the wall behind them, out of the way of those attempting to purchase from the kiosk.

She doesn't need any more disapproving glares from the vendor, God forbid she flash her badge and cite some ridiculous law at the grumpy ass.

"Rick!"

"Yes?" His head jerks as he looks around, confusion clouding his expression, and, resting against the building, she waits for him to meet her gaze.

"Did we move?"

Nodding, she pulls her lips up in one corner, and he tucks the magazine under his arm, her fingers sliding through his now they are free.

"Sorry, Kate. I'm…" His body folds into hers, a knee pressing between her thighs as he dots a kiss against her forehead, another on her mouth. "I haven't been paying attention to you, have I?"

He edges away, and her hands reach for the material of his shirt, attempts to hold him near.

"You've got a lot on your mind."

There's a lot on hers too. How to help without overstepping? Where's the line that separates the two? What's her place in this?

The family that they're building.

"It's no excuse and I'm sorry." He wraps his arms around her, the magazine falling to the ground, and she slides hers further until she can dip her hands into the pockets of his jeans, her fingers wiggling suggestively.

"What were you saying?"

"Wedding venues. We should make some appointments. See what's out there."

"Yeah, we should make a start. But, do you know what the best part of our wedding is going to be, Kate?"

She lifts an eyebrow and a shoulder. Does the honeymoon count as part of the wedding?

"That dreams come true. That you'll be my wife."

His lips capture hers, his body pressing hard as she dissolves into a puddle of feels.

The concept that he'll be her husband is one that keeps her awake at night, her heart pounding in anticipation.

Maybe they're on exactly the same page after all.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank you for your amazing support, especially with the heavier chapters, it is much appreciated xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo, much love for your hard work xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	7. Chapter 7

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x07 – 6x08

Like Father, Like Daughter – A Murder Is Forever

.

* * *

><p>The circular beam from his flashlight bobs randomly around the small space as he divides his focus between Alexis - it's so good to have made peace with her - and Beckett standing at the front of the storage area, and his actual task of shifting the mountainous load of items that have found their way onto the couch.<p>

How did he manage to hoard so much _stuff_?

A crash at his feet highlights his failure to do both, and, with a back handed wave in their direction and an, "I'm fine," he bends, picking up the plastic bag that's fallen to the ground.

Oh, it's the shells from the Hamptons, and his gaze twists once more toward Kate. The salt spray from the ocean as they'd walked hand in hand along the shore replaces the stale, still air he's currently breathing, and a sigh escapes.

He really should do something with these, do something to mark the epic event that it was, but not today, at the moment he has to get this couch out... somehow...

"Are you sure you don't need help, Castle?"

"Yeah, Dad, don't twist your knee."

"Or throw your back out."

"Yeah, you're not that young anymore. I can call Pi."

Dropping the bag onto the filing cabinet, he pivots, shining the flashlight their way.

"Are you two finished?" He aims at Alexis before giving Kate the same treatment and they both duck out of the bright beam as it hits them. "I'm not _that_ old, thank you, and my back was holding up just fine last night."

Their only reply is a pair of gutted groans of "Dad" and "Castle!" and he moves the last box off the couch, shuffles over to the front of it so he can begin edging the monstrosity toward the doorway, when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alexis lean toward Beckett's hand.

His breath catches in his chest as he freezes, attempts to watch the two of them discreetly.

He's been doing that a lot lately, letting them have their own space, standing back and swallowing the impulse to insert himself into their moments.

"It's beautiful." His daughter's statement is barely there, her hands curling behind her back as if she's afraid to touch the ring that adorns his fiancée's hand, afraid maybe to touch her?

Kate lifts her fingers, and, holding them high, happiness spreads across her features until he's positive he no longer needs the light in his hand. The glow from her face could illuminate the storage area on its own.

And the ledge his heart normally rests upon trembles, the organ freefalling as it dives off, fragmenting into glittering pieces of wonder.

He loves her so much.

"Yeah, it's stunning."

And he swears Kate's smile widens, her affirmation pure gush. He's kind of proud he'd chosen that one, that she's delighted with the engagement ring that symbolizes their soon-to-be joining of lives.

Granted a wedding won't change who they are and what they mean to each other, but he does enjoy the idea of standing before the world and declaring his undying love for her.

Alexis' hand drifts to Kate's, before she pulls back sharply and he silently pleads for the hesitancy to vanish. They're a family even without the marriage certificate confirming the concept.

"You can hold it." Kate begins twisting the platinum band off her finger, but his daughter stops the removal, her hand curling around the ring where it rests.

"No, it's where it belongs."

Damn, he won't cry, really he won't.

"And I love the diamond. It has an amazing color, cut and clarity."

Alexis turns her head toward him, her stare piercing through the paper-thin wall of his soul.

"You did good, Dad."

He wasn't supposed to cry.

Stepping over and around the boxes that litter the floor, he makes his way to them, his arms sliding around their shoulders as he draws them to his chest.

He just has to hold them tight for a second.

"Dad!"

Alexis' muffled exclamation breaks their group hug first, Kate patting his cheek in understanding follows, and he huffs in mock indignation before releasing the pair of them, turning back to the couch.

Attempts to rein in the emotions that clog his throat.

"You're sure that this couch will do? I could buy you a new one? One that's a better color?"

His daughter's raised eyebrow informs him that it's probably too soon to be making jokes, and he pushes his lips together, furrowing his forehead as he pulls a face.

Whoops.

"The couch is _fine_, Dad."

He coughs not so subtlety into his hand and Alexis dips her head.

"Thank you, Dad."

Time may have passed but lessons from long ago still linger, and he grins. It doesn't matter how old she becomes, she'll still be his little girl, the one that even now needs the odd reminder.

"I'm happy to help, Alexis." And it's true. He really is happy to help her in whatever way she requires, that fact doesn't change with time either.

"Hey, Dad, have you two thought about what you're doing for Thanksgiving?"

He's managed to shift the couch half way out of the narrow space when Alexis' question brings his progress to a halt.

"We should- we _could_ have dinner at the loft? If you and Pi don't have any plans?"

See, he's trying, really making an effort not just with his words but his actions.

"Yes. I could ask my Dad what he's doing. I mean if-"

Kate's eyes form saucers, her hands waving as if she can erase her words.

"That sounds perfect, Beckett." He abandons the couch again, it's never getting out of the room at this rate, and his hand slides along the curve of her neck, his mouth descending onto her forehead.

Family. An ever growing family, and he moves his hand down, his fingers ghosting across Kate's abdomen before he turns away.

And who knows, maybe there will be a baby in the loft soon, expanding their family even more.

"You sure you don't need Pi and his friends to help? I swear I can hear your knee creaking from here."

Then again, maybe he'll enjoy the peace and quiet for a little while longer.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank you for your sweetness, smiles all round because of you xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for the giggles and beta xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	8. Chapter 8

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x08 – 6x09

A Murder Is Forever – Disciple

.

* * *

><p>Placing her palms onto his desk, Kate lifts herself up, balancing on the edge, and, as she watches Castle stand in front of Linus, she attempts to school her features into something less, "I'm laughing my ass off at you," and something more, "I understand this is a tough moment for you."<p>

She doesn't need the mirror in the bedroom to tell her she's failing miserably.

"If it's really going to bother you, Castle, you can put it back up on the wall."

Sleeping with one eye open has its benefits she's sure… What those said benefits are, unfortunately, remain elusive at the moment, but that doesn't mean they're not there. Right?

"No. No, we've been over this," he waves to the framed shells that he'd taken off the wall and placed on the desk. "He's got to go. I- _we've_ just got to work out where to hang him."

"Are you positive? Because your bottom lip is telling a different tale."

He pivots on the spot, his mouth opening and closing, before he drops it even further, and her head shakes. That has to hurt him, curling his lip that far around.

"Well, I don't think he's going to fit in your office unless you clear the wall." She indicates to the framed items displayed there already, her gaze focusing on the dotted writer's vest and she swallows the surge of fear. Why must they always be trying to overcome their latest near death experiences?

"I don't wanna do that." He steps away from the canvas, his nose wrinkling as his head angles and his lip protrudes. Again.

"Is there somewhere in the-" Her phone beeps notifying her of a text, and she reaches for the device, her thump tapping the message. "Living room? Or are you just as attached to the polar bear in there?"

Lanie's question appears on her phone, and Kate lets out a chuckle. She didn't see this coming.

"Has there been a body drop?"

Smirking, she begins typing out a reply, her fingers flying across the screen as she gives her friend the out she was after.

"No. Lanie was just asking if I was still 'wanting to go out for drinks tonight'." Her hand moves up as she raises two fingers, forming air quotes around Lanie's question.

"And?"

"And… that's Lanie speak for I've had a better offer, but I won't take it up unless it's okay with you."

Castle shifts closer, rounds the side of his desk as he tries to peer down at her phone, his eyebrows drawing together.

"What would be a better offer than you?"

Hitting send, she discards her cell onto the stack of _Storm_ books behind her, and, lifting her hand, she squeezes his shoulder. Surely, this doesn't need to involve the complete birds and the bees talk?

"Espo. I'm assuming he's called wanting a hook up and I'm not gonna be denying Lanie that." She explains the situation to him even as a shudder edges down her spine. Discussing her two friends and their sex life is just all types of wrong.

Castle huffs, his body slumping down beside her as his fingers latch onto the framed seashells and after a beat, he faces her, his stare one of confusion.

"Are they on again? Because I have to say, the way Espo's been checking out Tori…"

"The way _he's_ been checking out Tori?" She arches an eyebrow, waits for Castle's spluttered defense.

"What- Wait- Do you think- I would never-"

Her attempt at controlling her features once again collapses, her laughter filling the office, and Castle jerks upright, thrusting the shells in her direction.

"I'm standing before you, a symbol of the greatest love story of all time within my hands, and you're sitting there insinuating that I've been checking out other women. Well I never, Katherine Beckett."

Seriously?

"The greatest love story of all time? Is that what we are?" She softens her smile, her hand extending until she can smooth her fingers along his side.

"We're doing a damn better job of it than Lanie and Espo. I just want to shake those two. Make them see what's right in front of them."

Plucking the frame from Castle's hand, she stares down at the shells for a second before she lifts it high toward the open doorway of their bedroom.

"This would fit nicely on the wall above the mirror." Slightly off topic but the thought of waking up and seeing it there on display each morning would be a lovely way to start the day. "And as for those two. They are what they are, and two years ago we were hardly in a position to comment on what was right in front of us."

So much can change so quickly, and yet on the other hand, sometimes it seems that change will never occur. That the same stories and mistakes of their past are just to be repeated over and over again.

It may have taken them a long time to get here, but look at all the good that has come of it.

"And if Lanie has stuff to do tonight, I'm sure I can manage to fill the evening just as easily."

Stepping away from Castle, she flips open the button of her pants, purposely twists her hips as she edges further from him and closer to the desk.

"I could get a board game out, Beckett? Clue? Scrabble?"

Her head shakes as the material pools at her feet, and with a well-crafted kick, she pitches them past him.

"Not what I had in mind, Babe."

Grasping the rim of his desk, she perches herself back onto the wooden surface, a foot pushing the office chair in his direction.

"You're killing me here, Kate."

She cards her fingers through her hair, arches her spine as she stares at his feet, slowly inches her gaze higher and higher until she locks her eyes with his.

"You're no good to me dead. Any more than you are good to me all the way over there."

Finally catching on, he rushes forward, his mouth descending onto hers, and, curling her hands around his neck, she pulls back for a second. "Perfect."

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank you for your wonderful words, the sweetest cherry on what has been an amazing weekend away (time to head back home now) xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for all your help xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	9. Chapter 9

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x09 – 6x10

Disciple – The Good, The Bad & The Baby

.

* * *

><p>The wind howls through the support pillars, the chill of winter seeping in early, and Rick tugs his coat closer, his leather gloves at least protecting his hands. His actions are for naught though, the skin on his face stings with the cold, each breath of air an icicle that slices as it travels down his throat.<p>

He should go home. There's nothing to see on this deserted bridge; there's no one lying at the bottom of the hundred-foot drop, no clues waiting to be discovered on this late night.

Yet, he remains staring down into a darkness that if he's not careful will swallow him whole.

The bright beam from a car's headlights cut through the black, and stupidly his heart steps up its pace, each muscle inside his body contracting at the intrusion. Flight or fight.

Coming to a stop, the driver's door opens, and his fingers curl into his palms, his shoulders hard lines as he turns completely to stare at the interruption. The person steps away from the car, their silhouette becoming clear, and his body slumps, his feet walking forward automatically.

"What are you doing here, Beckett?"

"Me? I could ask you the same thing, but at a guess I already know the answer."

She meets him halfway - it might be the midnight hour but his mouth curves into a smile at the symbolism of their actions - and he relaxes into her embrace, his arms circling low on her hips as hers echo the motion.

"I couldn't sleep."

Her head shifts against his throat, dipping as she nods, and his fingers rise, drifting through the strands of her hair, wild and messy from her pillow.

Apparently her rush to get to him outweighed any concern she might have had about what she looked like, and a surge of love and remorse, guilt and tenderness obstructs his ability to breathe.

He shouldn't have left her alone in bed, nothing but a vague note explaining his absence.

"I'm sorry."

A general statement that encompasses so much and yet says nothing at all.

"Don't be, I worked it out. Though you're lucky I'm a detective."

"I'm lucky to have you."

Her only reply is to snuggle closer into his chest, and, resting his cheek on top of her head, he gazes out at the expanse of water.

Tyson isn't here - the haunting music that creeps into his thoughts during his most vulnerable moments sounds like irrefutable proof of the bastard's escape - and glaring at the last place he was seen won't change that.

"We should go home. There's nothing here."

Angling back a fraction, Kate peers up at him, her eyebrows lifting, and he leans in, presses his lips to the line forming above her nose. The desire to bring voice to the rage and the speculation _again_ tenses the muscles of his shoulders, but they've been through this, stated their own opinions and thoughts about who was behind the hell of their last week, and rehashing it once more is less than helpful.

Yet, he found himself here tonight, the burden of Tyson a weight he feels he should carry alone.

"It'll be okay, Castle."

"Will it?"

The question slips from his lips, and he squeezes his eyes closed.

What happened to letting it go?

"I just…" He needs words, sentences. He does this for a living and yet so often in her presence he's at a lost to even form the basic components of speech. "The scars this leaves on Lanie, on Espo, and before that, the ones which marred Ryan, and myself - and in turn you - they'll fade, but they won't leave."

There's a devil - two of them now - lurking in the shadows, plotting their next course of action, the next cut across their tight knit group. Each slash to one is an open wound to each of them.

"Castle, the thing that I've had to come to terms with, knowing that Bracken is out there, that at any second the deal between us could fall apart, is that I can't stop living today for fear of what happens tomorrow."

Tears pool in the corner of his eyes at her truth, at the evolution and growth that coat her very honest statement.

"We have Thanksgiving next week, and our family will be there with us. We have to enjoy and live those moments, Rick. I'm just as scared as you are, but we can't hide and wait for horror to befall us because we'll miss out on all the beautiful and light-hearted memories that way."

"I love you. And you're right. We have a baby on the way-"

"Ryan and _Jenny_ do, yes-"

"And a wedding to plan. And…" Releasing Kate from his arms, he digs into his back pocket, his fingers grasping the phone. "I have a belated birthday present for you."

She shakes her head, her lips turning down in a frown as she divides her gaze between the cell in his hand and his face.

"You've already given me a present, Castle. Several in fact. I have you, I don't need anything more."

Smiling, he hooks an arm around Kate's back, shifting her until she's flush with his side, the phone held high in front of them, the app he'd opened displayed on the screen.

"This is sort of for me too."

"You're giving me the world?"

Her hand lifts, her finger brushing across the glass and the picture of the earth spins.

"Well, while I do rock your world on a regular basis," he chooses to ignore her snort of indignation, continuing, "this is for you to pick out our honeymoon destination. Regardless of our pasts, my past to be more specific, this is about our future, _our _life together. So where do you want to go?"

She taps the screen and the app stops its twirling, the country that's been chosen popping up in dazzling letters.

_Haiti._

Looking sideways at Kate, he drops his bottom lip. Surely the first go doesn't count?

"Since it's my gift I should be able to have another turn?"

"Completely. As many as you like." Or as many as it takes to get something other than Haiti and whoever probably still lives there…

And with her lips pinched together, Kate flicks a finger, the earth pivoting again.

_The __Maldives_.

Oh. _Ohhh_.

"We could rent an island for a couple of weeks? Just the two of us, the sand, and the water."

"Castle-"

"Hey, no. No money talk. This is it. The one and only honeymoon you'll have and the very last one for me. So no."

The war continues on her features, and he brushes his thumb across the space where her engagement ring normally sits, attempts to implore her with his best adoring look.

"That sounds wonderful, Castle."

* * *

><p>.<p>

I am so grateful for your wonderful words of support xoxo it's so nice hearing which chapters speak to you on an individual level!

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for cracking the whip so these get done xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	10. Chapter 10

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x10 – 6x11

The Good, The Bad & The Baby – Under Fire

.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure we can't keep some of this stuff for-"<p>

Spinning away from the front door, Kate narrows her eyes, the pointed glare she directs at Castle enough that his lips close, the rest of his question _thankfully_ remaining unsaid and she turns back, continues waiting for the Ryans to answer their buzzer.

The door opens wide without any further comments from the peanut gallery, and Jenny beams up at them, her hands drifting low under her stomach, as she appears to hold her rather extended bump up.

That really doesn't look at all comfortable.

"Hey, guys."

Shuffling out of the entrance, Jenny gestures for them to come in, and, readjusting the grip on the overstuffed bag, Kate enters, heading for the wooden table.

"I hope you have some space in the baby's room, 'cause Santa went a little overboard." Tilting her head at Castle, she carefully places the items down but it's no good, the tower leans precariously and she grabs for the bag, lying it all the way over.

"Oh, you two are the sweetest. You didn't have to buy all this." Walking toward Kate - can it really be considered walking so close to the due date? - Jenny grins, her delight adding another layer of shine to that which already illuminates her skin.

"To be fair, Castle bought most of this for Cosm- Baby Benny, but we thought you and Kevin could do with it now."

"I beg to differ." Mumbling does nothing to conceal his words, and she pivots in his direction, her glare returning.

"Will we need this leftover cra- paraphernalia in the next _month_?"

He shakes his head, eyes on the floor, and, raising a hand, she pats him on his shoulder, hopes her gesture softens the blow.

Talking about having kids in a few years' time is a little different to needing baby stuff now.

"It's all yours, Jenny. We don't need a play pen, or a car seat, or any of the other baby things that made their way into the loft during his stay." She shifts her attention back onto the table, her hand pushing aside some of the blankets. "We did buy this specifically for you, and there's a card in here too. Somewhere."

Kate's head lists to one side as she peers into the bag, but she can't see the white envelope poking out amid the diapers and bottles, and she shrugs a shoulder, holding out the onesie to Jenny.

"Castle saw it when we were out shopping the other week, and we couldn't go home without purchasing it."

The soft blue material is the background to a printed NYPD badge on the front, while the opposite side reads, _My Daddy kicks bad guy ass_.

It's probably not the most appropriate slogan for a baby to be wearing, but it didn't stop her fingers from hovering over a similar outfit. This one with the word Mommy written instead.

"I thought Kevin would enjoy the humor of it." Castle winks at Jenny, before gazing around the room. "Speaking of, where is he?"

Placing the outfit over her belly, as if trying it on for size, Jenny inclines her head toward the kitchen. "He's in there trying to get his old Bunsen burner working."

"He's what?"

Her question mingles with Castle's and smiling at him - she loves that they can still do that - she attempts not to laugh at either Ryan.

"He saw a documentary about camp fires and family bonding, and-" Jenny frowns, her mouth opening and closing, before opening again, "he's worried that he can't make the perfect s'more and our child will hate him as a result."

Lifting a hand to her face, Kate presses her fingers against her lips, forcing the burst of amusement to stay inside and not out, and she's successful until Castle nods at Jenny's explanation, understanding tugging at his features.

"Sorry." She waves toward Jenny - with any luck she'll be forgiven for her fit of giggles - but as Castle gives her a glare of his own, she has to turn away.

It's just too funny.

"I'm just going to make sure he doesn't set the apartment on fire."

"Oh, thank you, Rick."

Hearing his footsteps fade, Kate twists on the spot, schooling her face into something more sympathetic.

"How are you doing, Jenny? Excited for the birth?"

She really has to start hanging around pregnant women and babies more often, because her small talk needs some serious improvement.

Excited for the birth?

"I'm fine, tired though. Can't seem to sleep that much. It's just so uncomfortable and then when I find Kevin on the computer…" Jenny looks down, her fingers rubbing circles low on her side, and Kate settles a hesitant hand on her shoulder. Damn, what does she say in reassurance to that?

"I'm sure it's normal, and even I catch Castle on occasion…." Granted they enjoy _it _together, but that's hardly going to help Jenny.

"He has freak outs about being a parent too?"

"Huh?"

"On the internet, those parenting sites. Kevin spends half his night on them stressing over the right and wrong ways to do things."

Oh. Not quite where she'd thought Jenny was going with this.

"Yes. I'm mean, not the sites so much, but the parenting stress is completely normal." She's still counting her lucky stars that the recent turmoil with Alexis has resolved itself. "And you know that if you ever need to talk, or are feeling worried, or even just want someone besides Ryan to talk baby talk to, I'm just a phone call away. I'm sure that goes for Lanie too."

Jenny shifts closer, well as close as one can get with a belly the size of a watermelon, and Kate bends down, semi-embracing her friend. The six of them may not share blood, but that doesn't make them any less of a family.

"Thank you, Kate. That really means so much to me. And with any luck it will be your turn by the end of the year, and I can pass everything back to you." Jenny grins, her lips stretching a mile wide, and Kate tries not to look for the nearest exit. "Oh, and maybe Lanie and Javier will be next. How wonderful would that be?"

"Uhh."

Blank. A picture of her mind could very well sit in the dictionary next to the word, because she has nothing, and, inhaling deeply through her nose, she continues to search for a response when a smell drifts into the room, alerting her senses to danger.

"Is something burning?"

"Oh, fudge. I hope the boys haven't started a fire."

Kate nods, following Jenny into the kitchen, thankful for the save, thankful that Lanie isn't here as well.

Talk about stepping out of the frying pan and into an inferno!

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank yous happened yesterday courtesy of the sun, the park and lots of playing ;-) xoxo sorry to those I couldn't track down, but thank you xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for their wonderful pompoms and beta xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	11. Chapter 11

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x11 – 6x12

Under Fire – Deep Cover  
>.<p>

* * *

><p>Snow falls slowly from the sky, the soft flakes melting as they touch the skin on his face, and he drops his head back, standing still while they land, barely-there kisses of wonder.<p>

It's a timely reminder of all that the world offers, the little things which are taken for granted, the need to stop and smell the roses.

Not that they brought flowers with them this morning, she'd said it wasn't necessary, but he can't help feeling that his hands are empty, that he should have some token of thanks for the woman that gave him Kate.

Today's not about him though, and he continues his silent vigil from the path.

"Hey, you ready to go?"

Jerking his head forward, he draws the corner of his mouth into a tight smile, his hand extending in her direction. Kate continues moving even as she tangles their fingers together, the front of her body snuggling into his, and he steps away. Releasing her hand, he opens the sides of his coat, wrapping the material around her, sheltering her from the cold as they linger several yards from her mother's headstone.

"We can stay for as long as you need."

She nods against his chest, fingers dancing under his ribs and across to his spine, and he settles his chin gently on her shoulder. He'll stand here forever if that's what she wants.

"I keep thinking that it could've been worse. That we could've been here under much different circumstances, and I feel so grateful that we aren't, but then so damn upset that I'm here." Her head stays down, the confession falling from her lips muffled but he hears every word, and his heart aches over the conflicting emotions that battle within her.

She's not the only one grateful that their latest close call, that Javi and Kevin's latest close call, had a happy ending, and while normally they're the ones in trouble, it was no less soul destroying to be on the other side of the disaster.

"It's just- I'm still here without justice, Castle, and it tears me apart."

_Oh, Kate. _If only he could take that burden from her.

"I know, but it's a marathon we're running, not a sprint. We'll get there, get justice for your Mom. And just think after all that exercise we'll be mighty buffed for the cameras when we do put the bastard behind bars."

Kate huffs, her spine arching under his fingers as she pulls back, her grin giving away her internal laughter, and he flies in for a kiss, quick and hard against her lips.

"Thank you, Rick. For being here. I don't say it enough-"

"You don't need to say it at all. Two way street, babe."

He chuckles as her nose wrinkles, but two can play at the nickname game.

"I don't know what I would do? If I was faced with the same situation as Jenny. If-"

"Hey, we can't live like that, Kate. Remember. The what ifs will suffocate us. I…" Lifting a hand, he brushes her loose hair away, the flying strands obstructing his ability to see into her stunning eyes. "I know it's not the same, but after last year, with Alexis and what happened in Paris. I thought I'd go insane, that every time she left my sight it would all go horribly wrong again."

It had taken all he had to stand strong and bid her farewell when she'd left for Costa Rica.

"But you're okay now." There's no question in her statement and he drops his forehead to hers, a smile spreading across his lips.

"I am. Mainly because I had you. _Have_ you." Closing his eyes, he searches for just the right words that explain how her presence in his life has shown him that there is such a thing as happily ever after, that for all the bad and evil in the world there is love and light.

Her glow is blinding, illuminating every corner of his soul, chasing the shadows away.

"Castle, it's because when someone stands beside you, holds you up when you think you're going to drown, stays awake when you can't sleep at night, makes you smile even as the tears fall, then there's still joy even on the worst day."

He opens his eyes, and as he stares into hers, the moisture glazing her expression, he breathes her love in.

Today, fifteen years ago, was a very devastating day. But they are here now…

"Exactly. And sometimes we lose sight of that, in the big and little moments of every day, with work and family pressures, but it doesn't mean we forget, Kate. It doesn't mean that I forget." Lowering his mouth, he gently ghosts his lips against hers, seeks entrance, and she allows him in, the heat inside her mouth warming him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head and the all the inches in between.

He doesn't have to hope he does the same for her. He witnesses their shared love every moment that they spend together.

Kate pulls back a fraction, her nose nudging his. "I don't forget either; like an elephant that way. Long memory."

Grinning at her sentiment and the truth within, he catches one last kiss before straightening. It's time to get them home where they can curl up in bed, a hot cup of coffee and each other for company.

"Come on, Castle. I promised your mother I'd teach her how to make pancakes, and today seems like a good day for it."

Walking away, joined by their fingers fused as one, he swallows the thick swell of emotion that rushes through his veins as he listens to his fiancée's plans. Kate wants to spend today, of all days, with his mother, and with the back of his hand, he swipes at his eyelids, clearing his vision.

One person can't replace another, but a heart doesn't have an in and out score sheet. A heart loves exponentially, metaphorically growing in size with every new person that comes along, becomes another loved member of the family.

Family is more than blood, more than that which a person is born into...

Family is love.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank you for all your love and support xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for being family xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	12. Chapter 12

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x12 – 6x13

Deep Cover – Limelight

.

* * *

><p>The plate of scrambled eggs on toast lands in front of Kate with a thump, and she presses her lips together as Castle, Martha, and her dad's breakfast receive the same treatment. They don't normally dine here - the four of them don't normally have breakfast together period - but the café was a compromise between the precinct, Martha's studio, and her father's office.<p>

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait for Alexis?" She gnaws on her bottom lip, her eyes darting between the food waiting to be devoured and Castle, who's already starting on his bacon and egg sandwich.

"No, she said to start, that-"

"Hi, guys."

Looking behind her, Alexis appears as if conjured by her name, and Kate indicates to the empty seat they'd saved for her. "Hi, breakfast just arrived if you want to order something."

The younger girl waves a hand before leaning on the back of the free chair, her gaze moving around the group.

"Thanks but I'm good. Mr. Beckett, it's lovely to see you. Gram." Alexis dots a kiss on her grandmother's cheek, their red hair creating a brilliant halo for a moment. "Dad."

"Daughter."

"I can't stay, sorry. I have a tutoring gig that I'm running late for but I was hoping for a favor."

"Anything."

"Pi needs a letter of recommendation for a grant he's applied for, and, if you're able to, we'd appreciate it if you could write one."

Kate angles her head toward her fiancé, lifts an eyebrow as he nods eagerly.

"Done. When do you need it by?"

"Oh. I'll text you with the details tonight, if that's okay. And thank you, Dad."

Coming around behind her, Alexis bends over, squeezing Castle's shoulders, and Kate smiles at the sight of them, even if she has no idea how he's going to write a letter praising Pi of all people.

"Okay, I'm off. Have a great breakfast." Pivoting, Alexis all but runs out the door, a mini tornado off at a million miles a minute.

"It's a shame she couldn't stay, you two said on the phone you had some news."

Kate drags her attention away from the diner's front door, her eyes meeting her dad's and she nods in response to his statement. "We've set a date."

Clapping his hands, he beams her way, then at Castle. "Well thank goodness, because if I got one more email from Theresa, I was going to set one for you."

"Well we haven't done the invitations yet, but you can tell her to keep the last weekend of September free."

"What about your book signings, Richard?" Martha lifts a finger, wiggling it between them. "I still think city hall is an option."

Shaking his head, Castle places the fork on his plate, and Kate reaches under the table, patting his leg in moral support.

"I've spoken to Black Pawn, Mother, and I'm going to spread them out across the year. Do some in May when Wild Storm comes out and some late August and early September for Raging Heat which is due out the sixteenth."

Easy as pie. Although…

Kate wrinkles her nose at the thought, her head dropping forward as she uses her free hand to gather up a spoonful of eggs. She's going to have to think of a new expression now.

"Congratulations, Rick." Her dad's praise seems to catch Castle by surprise, his leg contracting under her palm, and she lifts her head, darts her attention between the two of them. "Two best sellers waiting to hit the shelves. And I have my pre-order in for both. I must say that I was quite taken by Storm Front. Not that I don't love Nikki Heat of course. I just don't have to skip parts of Derrick Storm."

A surge of warm blood flushes the skin on her face at what he's implied - why is there never a black hole when one is needed? - but Castle straightens next to her, and she inclines her head, watches as he squares his shoulders.

"Thank you, Jim."

"No thanks needed, Rick. I'm proud of you." Jim leans toward them, his elbows resting on the table. "I'll always be grateful that you two found each other. Does this old heart good seeing that you have one another to turn to."

Castle nods, his fingers gripping hers on his thigh, and she twists her hand within his hold, shifting so they are palm to palm.

"I couldn't agree more, Jim." Martha raises her glass of orange juice and Kate reaches for her mug, a smile coiling her lips upward. "To the joining of our families, may the blessed event out shine even the brightest of stars."

"Thank you, Mother."

"Yes. Thank you, Martha. Dad." Bringing the coffee to her lips, Kate savors the taste as it coats her tongue, the warmth of her blush now replaced with the glow of her Dad's statement and Martha's toast.

Casting a sideways look at Castle, she realizes she's not the only one feeling the love from the older pair, that he's been affected even more than she has.

_Oh_. Her dad had said he was proud of Rick. No strings attached. No means to an end. Simply proud of him.

He's probably never heard that from a father figure and she buries her head into his shoulder, hides for a moment as the idea leaves her open and exposed. His lips brush the top of her head, his nose bumping into her forehead and she bends back, staring into his eyes.

"Now that you have a date, darlings, we need to move on to venues, dresses, and yes, accessories." Martha interrupts their moment, and they turn as one, Kate lifting an eyebrow.

Accessories?

"Have you thought about how you are going to keep this hush hush from the paparazzi? Because we could order the weddings trappings under my name, heaven knows no one would be shocked if I were to get married again." Martha slaps a hand against Jim's arm, and Kate conceals her mouth behind her fingers at her dad's expression.

"And, Richard, speaking of Nikki Heat and your upcoming nuptials, I had the grandest idea."

Castle appears to turn into concrete at her side, his nails almost digging into her palm as he clings to her like a life preserver.

"What do you think about an ice sculpture?"

"An ice sculpture of what, Mother?"

"Well a Nikki Heat ice sculpture, of course. Very paradoxal et ironique."

It's Kate's turn to rake her nails into his skin, and as his head tilts to one side, he comes to their rescue.

"That's a lovely gesture, but one we will have to pass on. Heat melts ice after all."

Apparently coming up with a date was only the beginning of a very long road.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

This is the half way chapter, eleven before, eleven to go! Thank you for your wonderful support as we reach this mark xoxo We've made it all this way and our show will be back on sooooooooon! Being (mostly) spoiler free I am doing a lot of hiding on twitter ;-) but the anticipation is sky high for us all!

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for your hard work and flails xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	13. Chapter 13

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x13 – 6x14

Limelight - Dressed To Kill

.

* * *

><p>"Okay then. You two see if anything comes from the canvas, and Castle and I will see what her roommate has to say." He half listens as Beckett rattles off her instructions to the boys, but he's already turning away, heading toward the yellow tape dividing the alleyway.<p>

He'd taken out his phone while in her cruiser, had sent another text to Alexis - her ominous statement as she'd left the precinct the other day the last time he'd heard from her - and he must have put it down on the seat because it's not currently in his pocket.

What does he do without his cell?

"You're eager to get going, Castle. Got a theory you need to share in private?"

He lifts the yellow tape, gesturing for her to go underneath as he nods absent-mindedly. Telling Beckett that he hadn't heard a word because he's mentally trying to retrace his steps doesn't seem the smartest move. That's just leaving himself wide open for old man jokes.

"Misplaced phone."

"Oh. Misplaced or lost?"

He positions his hand to the small of her back, crowds into her personal space as he dodges those jostling for a better look at the crime scene, and, taking the opportunity, he whispers in her ear, "Why? Do you want to do a strip search and see what you can find?"

Her shoulder knocks into his chest - he doesn't need to see her face to know that her lips are twitching, her battle to conceal her grin already lost - and with an extra-long stride, she pulls away from him.

Thankfully, his legs can match hers easily and he's by her side as they reach her car.

"Oh my God. _Ohmygod_. I can't believe it's you."

Turning to stare at the woman who created the high pitch rush of exclamation, he plasters his best 'public face' on. He doesn't write for the fame - much - but taking a minute to bask in a little ego stroking never hurt anyone.

That and there's a lot to be thankful for. His readers have given him a lot to be thankful for.

All the little moments that cascaded throughout his life had led him to the Derrick Storm launch party. More importantly had led Beckett, badge in hand, to find him.

"Hi."

She's young, late teens at a guess, her clothes faded and out of date, but still the shirt and skirt fit her well, complimenting her blonde hair as it falls past her shoulders in ringlets, her wide-eyed stare darting between him and Beckett.

"Hi. I- Oh gosh. I just can't believe that I'm in New York, and that I was just walking down the street, because it's all so beautiful and I just wanna walk around it for days and days." She sucks in a deep breath and Rick finds himself doing the same.

"And I was just turning the corner and there you are, and, oh strike me down. I was just looking at your picture, the one in the paper about you getting married. I'm so, so happy to hear you're getting married. And now here you are!"

He forces his lips to stay curved, even as he takes a step back, discreetly places an extra foot or two between himself and the woman who is no doubt about to proclaim herself his 'biggest fan'.

Why is it that he always seems to stumble across that percentage of the population who place the hard in hardcore?

"So you're not from New York." His elbow nudges Beckett's, and he has to hope that she's taking notes in case she needs this information once his body goes missing.

"New York? No, I'm from Iowa. I'm on vacation. A week-long trip with my parents before I start college in the fall."

"I'm sure you'll have an amazing time with them." Kate's soft affirmation takes him by surprise until it hits him how, once upon a time, she'd probably been in a similar situation.

"Oh l am. I have all the love for this city. I just can't believe that I found you. Could I get an autograph?" Looking through her large bag, his almost-scary fan digs around for a moment before her shoulders slump.

"I don't have any paper. Just a magazine I'd bought earlier." She lifts a copy of _Modern Fashion_, before turning her upset eyes onto him, and then Kate.

"That's okay. I'm sure there's a bit of space somewhere inside for a signature. And I have a pen." He reaches inside his coat pocket as his partner huffs her amusement, and, angling sideways, he raises an eyebrow.

Yes, Dear?

"I didn't say a thing."

He narrows his eyes a fraction, reads the mockery on her face perfectly - it's not like this is the first time he's been in this position - and after throwing a pseudo glare her way, he returns his attention to his fan.

"What would you like me to write?"

Confusion twists the younger girl's face, her troubled look traveling between Beckett and himself again.

"Huh?"

"Is there anything in particular you'd like me to write along with my signature?"

Her eyebrows meet, her head slanting as she reaches for his pen, plucking it from his fingers.

"Oh. I'm, like, so sorry. But I meant Nikki." She turns to Beckett as her smile grows and his jaw drops. "Do you mind? I'm just- I love your work so much. And I've been doing modeling gigs in my home town so I can afford college, and then, after, I'm gonna be a cop. Just like you."

Well, damn.

Pivoting to get a better view of his speechless fiancée, Castle closes his mouth as she opens hers.

"_Me?"_

The girl thrusts the magazine and pen into Beckett's hands, and since she appears to be a little lost over what's happening, he comes to her rescue.

"You just write a short message and sign your name." It's what he does… or at least what he did...

"Thank you, Castle. I'm well aware of what to do." Her tongue flickers between her lips, obviously decides that sticking it out all the way wouldn't look that good in front of her 'fan', and she peers down, following his advice.

He's too curious not to stretch in her direction, his gaze moving with his pen across the page, and as she hands the magazine back, he stares at the ground, reining in his emotions.

_Always look out for that odd sock, you may just find it will change your life._

_Do great things, Nikki xo_

He's written a lot of inscriptions, to a lot of fans, but he doesn't think he's ever come close to anything as heartfelt as what he'd just read.

And the student becomes the master indeed.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank you again xoxo Not to wish the weekend away, but then it will be Monday, and then it will only be a week, and then... do I sound a little desperate? I'm beginning to feel a little desperate ;-)

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for putting up with the desperation and for sharing it xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	14. Chapter 14

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x14 – 6x15

Dressed To Kill - Smells Like Teen Spirit

.

* * *

><p>"Oh, Beckett, this is- wow! How did you get all of this up here?" Castle turns in a circle, the tips of his fingers drifting across the lights above them and she breathes out the anxiety that had stacked up inside of her, each brick piling on top of the next as she'd prepared her rooftop garden for tonight.<p>

"Yeah? It's okay?"

His gaze snaps up from the table she'd dragged upstairs, his eyes widening as he locks them with hers, and she claps her hands together softly, fingers interlocking.

It had taken all afternoon - once the locksmith had finished installing a new deadbolt on her front door - to create a romantic setting for two amid the overgrown garden that struggles to survive on her roof these days, but for all the carrying and fretting, her hard work seems to have paid off; Castle's body hums with glee and the sensation washes over her in waves.

"This might just top last year's Valentines gift, and who'd have thought that was possible." He winks, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling, as his lips turn upward and she returns his grin. She'd learned long ago that when he smiles and means it, when he's truly happy, his face reflects this, his features dance, every muscle moving as he expresses his joy.

It's all she wanted from tonight.

"Well, if you'd like to take a seat, dinner shall be served."

He steps forward in her direction though, his hands reaching for her hips, and she closes the space between them, her fingers smoothing their way over the light dusting of stubble on his neck, her thumbnail catching the short strands.

"But what if I wanted dessert first?" The low rasp of his voice melts like butter on her overheated skin, the fact that it's February and freezing - even with the portable outdoor heater she'd borrowed - does nothing to cool her down.

What had she been thinking when she'd planned a dinner under the stars and a hundred twinkling fairy lights? A picnic at the foot of her bed would have been a much smarter idea.

"While I appreciate the sentiment and whole heartedly agree, if we have dessert up here we may end up with frostbite in places that will be hard to explain."

Her hands drop, burying under the sides of his coat, under all of his layers, until she reaches the skin of his stomach, and as she spreads her cold fingers, he jumps back.

"Oh that's chilly."

She giggles at the way he shoves the material down and over his exposed flesh, her delight earning her a glare, but his stern look only causes her laughter to continue.

"So, what's on the menu, my chef?"

Sitting down on a chair, Castle wraps himself in the blanket she'd placed over each seat, and she follows his actions, lifting the lids off their bowls before cocooning herself in the woolen throw that normally sits at the end of her bed.

"First course is chicken and leek soup. A family recipe that my mother fine-tuned much to _her_ mother's admonishment." She curls her lips into a soft smile, the memories of her early teenage years and the culinary arguments she'd witnessed between two stubborn women clouding her thoughts.

"And second course?"

Clearing her throat, she looks down the stairs where the rest of dinner warms in the oven.

"That's a surprise, Castle."

His eyes narrow, his spoon lifting to his lips, but an expression of bliss explodes across his features with his first mouthful.

"They taught you well, Kate. This is amazing."

Her head dips as she shrugs a shoulder. She wasn't always the best student but thankfully, she retained a thing or two as she became older.

"I'll be sure to tell Dad next time I see him that I can still pull off their soup."

Castle's hum of agreement is his only response, the spoon sliding between his lips again and she squeezes her thighs together at the sight, the way his tongue protrudes to catch every drop.

Apparently, she should have done a picnic by her bed with something less salacious for the first course. Then again, he can make even the most mundane of activities seem completely sensual.

"Were you able to get ahold of your Dad?"

And there's the bucket of ice water she needed.

"Yeah. He said he had visited a couple of times as he'd been in the area, but I was never home." She drops her gaze to her soup, the worry that's been flickering in and out of her heart over their conversation returning once more.

"Is everything all right?"

Looking up, she attempts to smile. "Something was... off. He admitted to dropping by but when I promised to come and see him, he said not to worry, that it wasn't necessary."

"What wasn't necessary?"

She raises her shoulders as she lifts her hands up in the air. It's a question that's been running through her mind constantly since she'd spoken to him.

"I have no idea. The last time we talked, he mentioned that he was going through some of Mom's things that he keeps in storage, and then there was a sudden rush to see me, and then nothing." His behavior reminds her of long ago, when her parents had dotted the boring school year with surprise occasions. She never was good with surprises...

"Could he have something of your Mom's that he wants you to have? Something for the wedding?" Castle taps his spoon to his mouth, the far off stare that always precedes his next great theory fixed onto the dozen roses he'd presented on his arrival, and she draws her eyebrows together.

"That's what I thought too, but when I asked him if he had something for the wedding, all I got back was 'it doesn't matter anymore, you already have one'."

"Have what? The only thing you've found for the wedding is a dress. Which by the way, I hope you haven't hidden that well."

Pointing, she wiggles her finger, her head shaking in time with her actions.

"No, you're not looking for it or there will be no _dessert_ until the honeymoon." She adds a glare when his mouth opens. "And I didn't get a chance to mention the dress to Dad. The locksmith arrived and when I explained about someone getting into my apartment to deliver the box and no one knowing anything about it, he just muttered sorry and hung up."

"What? That's weird."

She throws her hands up and over her head this time.

"I know." There has been far too much weirdness in her life of late. "Anyway, I have to drop off a new set of keys to him next week, so I'll try and work out then what he was going to give me, why I no longer need it, and why he's sorry that I had to have a locksmith."

The whole afternoon has hurt her brain and the muscles of her lower back far too much. What she needs now is to get their romantic evening back on track, and, reaching for the remote of the iPod dock she'd brought upstairs, she hits play.

"Oooooo, I love this song!"

She meets Castle exclamation with distaste, her nose wrinkling as the song begins mid chorus. This is what you get when you merge music accounts.

And she presses the next button.

* * *

><p>.<p>

I'm so glad the lighter moments are just as much enjoyed as the weighted ones. Thank you for your sweet words in regards to both xoxo

I used the airdates for Valentine's Day :-)

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for their time and patience xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	15. Chapter 15

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x15 – 6x16

Smells Like Teen Spirit - Room 147

.

* * *

><p>He slides his fingers between Kate's as her momentum through the front door comes to a stop, but with a gentle tug, he encourages her forward, shifting them until they are standing in the middle of the loft.<p>

"There's a disco ball hanging from the ceiling?" Her question is accompanied with a lift of an eyebrow, and Rick smiles at both, his lips skirting across her forehead.

The day clings to her hair, the scent clueing him in on what she'd been up to without him. The numerous coffees she'd probably consumed when the case was going nowhere, the trace of sweat that had come from chasing down a taxi - she'd sent an unhappy message over _that_ - and the tang of alcohol which now underlies it all. It's the beer she'd said she was going to share with the boys after she'd dragged the suspect out of the cab, the dirtbag's confession falling easily, no doubt as a result of her trademark glare.

He'd missed it all thanks to his deadline, but the time apart had inspired him to write a little faster, and he'd reached the number of chapters Gina required, in spite of spending every other minute texting her for an update. There had even been an hour to spare before he'd expected her home.

Hence tonight.

"I know we got to dance together at my old high school prom, but I couldn't resist an opportunity for a little role play. So…" Squeezing her fingers, he draws their linked hands to his chest. This role playing doesn't consist of costumes and accessories, but with any luck they'll still end up in bed. "Would you like to relive your youth, Rebel Becks?"

The lights dim, the mirrored ball above glowing and he sighs in relief. Sometimes an idea comes together perfectly and with Kate in his arms, music from the eighties playing softly in the background, this one is brilliant.

"So are we reenacting your prom or mine?"

"Uh? There's a difference?" Isn't a prom - prom. Music, dancing, finding a quiet corner to make out in.

"Well, I was about eight at your prom…"

Dropping his arms, he steps back, his jaw crashing to the floor. Seriously?

"You're killing the mood here, Beckett."

Her fingers grab his belt, jerking their lower halves together, and he slants into her, attempts to wipe the image from his mind before it takes hold and destroys his plans for this evening.

She chuckles as her teeth scrape along the underside of his jaw, her breath ghosting across his skin, hot and heavy, her body swaying. Powerless to resist the call of her sweet song, he follows Kate's actions, dances with her.

"Sorry, Castle, but this is a little weird, even for us."

"I thought you liked the weird ones? And do you want to stop?"

He moves away, lifting their joined hands for her to twirl underneath, and she does so, her grin outshining the light from above.

"No, I don't ever want to stop dancing with you."

She comes back to him, her hand curling around his shoulders and he uses the close proximity to sneak his fingers under the back of her work shirt, climbing the staircase of her spine inch by inch until he can't ascend anymore.

"Oh, you're in my veins and I cannot get you out." He kind of sings, mainly hums into her ear, their song still playing in his head despite Jon Bon Jovi crooning from the speakers around them.

The lyrics speak to him on so many levels. The struggle they'd overcome to get here, the many ways they'd fought against each other, run away, only to realize they couldn't fight the inevitable. That when everything was dark there had been a ray of sunshine, a way for them to find their way through the rough until they discovered what was meant to be - them together.

"The songs make sense, Castle. I was right, even back then. You should come to terms with the fact that I'll always be right."

"You mean I should just concede to the idea? Admitting defeat doesn't sound like me."

She answers with a grin, cheeky and playful, her teeth flashing as her lips pull back, and, peering down at her, his heart bursts from his chest, soaring high above them. He has stood by and watched the evolution of that smile, from tight and more grimace than joy, to radiant and glowing, the eighth wonder of the world.

Shaking his head, he drops a kiss onto her shoulder, his arms tucking her closer to his body as they continue to drift from side to side.

Kate wouldn't be the eighth. She holds first place.

"If I start making out with you on the dance floor will Martha interrupt, playing the role of Principal?" Kate tugs on the lowest button of his shirt, her fingers pushing against his stomach, and he hopes that she's working the plastic disc free. "Will she clear her throat and look down her nose like Principle Dunan did when he caught us going for it at the Prom?"

All thoughts of becoming naked are saturated by the icy image of his mother and his ex-principal standing side by side, the picture a complete dampener on his mood.

"You know how to shoot a guy when he's down, Beckett." He shakes his head while shuddering. "Talk about drowning me in water from the Artic."

Her laughter at least coincides with his second button popping free, her nimble fingers working despite the amusement spilling forth from her body, the evening turning once again in the right direction.

And then there's a knock at the door.

Groaning into the smooth arch of her neck, his lips seize one last taste of her skin where it plunges behind her clavicle, and with a forlorn heart - no good ever comes from a late night intrusion - he untangles his arms, trudges toward the entryway.

He'd thought hauling himself away from the warmth of Kate's embrace was depressing, but opening the front door to discover his daughter on the other side, her porcelain cheeks stained with the remnants of tears, her eyes blood shot and miserable, renders him to a new level of desolation.

"Alexis? Pumpkin, what happened?" He pulls her close, her head angling sideways as her ear settles above his aching heart.

"I broke up with Pi."

* * *

><p>.<p>

Quiet Sunday allowed me to get to everyone personally, except my guests, thank you to you too xoxo Hope you have had a lovely weekend everyone!

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for being there when I hit the wall at this point xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	16. Chapter 16

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x16 – 6x17

Room 147 - In the Belly of the Beast

.

* * *

><p>Glaring at the pillow and the case she's attempting to place on it, a growl escapes. The material refuses to move down anymore, and she tightens her fingers into a fist. There has to be something she's missing here?<p>

"If you're in the middle of something I can come back later?"

Snapping her head up, she transfers her displeasure onto Castle, narrowing her eyes until she can barely see, but what should have had an effect fails. He merely struts to her side, plucking the pillow from her grip to put the case on without any difficulties. Bastard.

"How-"

"I'm a genius." His eyebrows waggle, his arm stretching between them as he hands the now enclosed pillow back to her. "That and I've been making this bed for a long time. There's a trick to it, a knack that you too will master one day, but until then you shall just have to rely on me. Your faithful partner, your steady rock, your-"

"You're in an exceptionally good mood tonight, Castle." Tossing the pillow toward the head of the bed, she reaches for the next bare one, her gaze shifting to his as she cradles the cushion to her chest.

"What's not good about it? Today, even when I was faced with no theory, I still cracked a magnificent case."

_He_ cracked the case?

"My gun is within walking distance and I'm still feeling a little trigger happy. You want to revise that statement, _buddy_?"

His eyes dart toward the safe, hands lifting, palms toward her as he surrenders.

"We cracked the case. The team. Because we always have each other's backs. Yay, team!" His fingers dance in front of his chest in a rather good jazz hand imitation and her mouth opens before she closes it again. She really doesn't want to know.

"My daughter is upstairs, where she belongs, instead of in that apartment slash horror movie waiting to happen. And my talented fiancée is making my bed."

The pillow she'd been working on flies across the short space between them, hitting him perfectly on his chest with a grunt, but even that doesn't diminish his grin and she shakes her head.

"Is there nothing you can't do, Beckett? Solve the most mysterious of cases. Make my daughter see the light- Yes, I know you had a part to play somewhere in this." Castle drops the pillow, his fingers transferring to cup her cheek, and she lists into the warmth of his touch.

There's no other feeling in the world, nothing that can come close to describing what courses through her heart when she stops for a second, takes the time to savor their love.

"And since you're on a roll tonight, wanna try your best at ending my night in spectacular fashion? Do a little strip tease? Maybe entice me with your sexy Russian skills?"

And there's her funny man.

Elevating her right arm, she slides her fingers between his knuckles as he drifts his thumb along her cheekbone, and while he looks into her eyes, she discreetly reaches with her left hand, grasping the pillow.

The whack as it slaps into his stomach is rather satisfying and she smiles down at his dramatic fall to the bed.

"Are you sure you're having a good day?"

He nods, his wheezing so over the top that her eyes roll, her hands clapping slowly. He is his mother's son and that's a performance worthy of an academy award. Castle really should try his hand at undercover work. If he could manage to stay unrecognized, she knows he'd be great at it.

"What's not to be happy about, Beckett? Besides Mother's latest suggestion for our wedding, that is."

"Do I want to know?"

"The Vienna Boys Choir."

Smothering her face in the palms of her hands, she shudders.

Oh, please no.

"So besides the glares we'll be receiving for plunging that idea into a bucket of ice water, what's not to be happy about? Although..."

He stretches up from the bed, traces the damp strands of her hair, his fingers tangling within the bun she'd thrown it in. A mess to be dealt with tomorrow.

"Although?"

"You could have waited for me to get all wet? Where's the fun in there only being one person involved?"

Pushing him down, she crawls over his body, her knee knocking high between his thighs, her fingers curling around the hard, solid muscles of his biceps as she towers above.

She was going somewhere with this... but there are firm edges against her skin, strong, rugged inches of her fiancé, and her eyes close.

Focus, Kate. Focus.

"There's still a lot of fun to be had when by oneself. But you're right, when wet, there's much more entertainment with two."

She hooks her ankles under the back of his knees, her thighs straining as she uses them to propel herself up in one fluid motion, and, sitting on top of his legs, she tugs at her hair tie, allowing the strands to tumble free.

"Did you just say I was right, because I thought you…"

His sentence tapers off, his eyes flittering down then up, left then right as if he's unable to work out where he should be staring, his senses appearing to be as over stimulated as her own.

"Is this how a good day should end, Castle? With a good f-"

His mouth crashes into hers, his tongue begging for a fight, and she gives everything she has in return, their bodies falling as one back onto the mattress, their teeth nipping, nails clawing.

But she pulls back, not quite finished yet…

"тебе это нравится?"

She twists her lips, the smirk she fights to conceal no doubt appearing against her will and Castle's eyes roll back into his head, his hips jerking underneath her thighs until he goes limp.

Well, not _that_ limp, thankfully.

"You're not dead are you, Castle?"

His head lolls onto the mattress, an eye cracking open.

"Close, but not yet. Maybe you should try some more and see what happens?"

Relaxing against his body, hip to hip, chest to chest, she mumbles into his cheek, "Maybe not. I like you alive too much."

She's on her back, her breath exiting in a huff as he flips her with a strength that she'll never stop being in awe of, and with his teeth scraping along the tendons of her neck, his tongue soothing the red line she knows from experience now marks her skin, he whispers, "That goes for you too, Kate."

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank you for all your support and sweetness xoxo It's a week! A week and a few hours, but a week! Thank goodness!

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for helping me to survive!

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	17. Chapter 17

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x17 – 6x18

In the Belly of the Beast - The Way of the Ninja

.

* * *

><p>Staring down at the tub full of water, Kate repeats the mantra that's been grumbling in her ear since she'd walked into the bathroom.<p>

It's just a bath.

She'd turned on the taps easily enough, droplets spraying up and onto her arms as they'd bounced off the bottom. Had stood and watched the water rise slowly inside the white walls with only a thin coil of anxiety tightening the breadth of her chest. But as she'd turned off the facets, the silence had risen up around her, and she'd rocked back onto Castle's heated tiles.

The beads of perspiration had surfaced, the tension within her muscles escalating, and her progress into the tub had come to a complete halt. A soul-destroying stop.

It's a bath. Just a bath.

Except suddenly it has gained a new significance. What was once a place to lie and be surrounded by warmth, a place to relax as the hours disappeared and melted into each other, is now an ice cold reminder of a frozen torture.

She closes her eyes, fingers flexing at her side, as her mind races. The thump of her heart beats in time with every flash of memory. The burn within her throat. The loss of sensation upon her skin. The moment when her thoughts of Castle were the only way she'd been able to claw onto consciousness.

"Kate?"

Their love that she'd held fast to, past the sharp edge of pain, past the point when most would have conceded, has seemingly drawn him into the room, and she's thankful for his presence.

Thankful that he can sense her turmoil, has appeared at her side, ready to fight another battle. She may have walked in here by herself, but she was never alone.

Just as she was never without him, regardless of where she'd found herself on _that_ night.

He's her touchstone, her constant that now never leaves, and she opens her eyes to stare at the dreaded object.

"I need to have a bath."

It's such a simple task, one she'd taken for granted a thousand times before, but the anguish that's threaded itself around each word is clear to her ears. She can't hide it from him. Has no desire to, either.

"Then we'll do it together."

It sounds so simple, so easy, but even with him standing there, the terror that had ascended as the water climbed higher won't leave her heart. The organ thrashes inside her chest and she wonders if he can hear it. Can he feel her panic?

"What if I can't?"

Moving in front of her, Castle's solid form removes the bathtub from her vision, and, concentrating on the blue of his eyes, she sucks in a hesitant breath.

There's no other option here though, this has to be overcome, and she clings to the knowledge that she's not alone.

She wasn't then, and she's not now.

He places a hand on each of her hips, his fingers curling under the hem of her sweater and he tugs a fraction. It's enough for the skin of his knuckles to drift across the flesh of her sides and a shiver shudders its way down the length of her spine, goosebumps flowing across her body like a wave breaking against the sand.

She's been trembling all night, but this is the first time that it wasn't from the icicles that reside within her veins.

Pulling higher, he maneuvers the material up, and, relaxing into the movement, she assists him in getting her sweater off.

It's just a bath, and she can do this. She's more than just a broken doll, more than a puppet that was thrown around as if it didn't matter. As if _she_ didn't matter.

She matters. She matters to him.

Once upon a time she would have been following any and all leads blindly, would have left no stone unturned in her search for justice, traveled far and wide in hopes that she would obtain that bastard's head on a platter.

He'd organized for her mother's murder after all, but she's not that person anymore. Revenge is no longer her driving force. Blood for blood is no longer her only option. She will find justice. With Castle by her side, she will find evidence and witnesses the right way, and Bracken will die in jail, having had to live with all that he has done, all the lives that he's destroyed.

"Kate?"

Castle whispers her name into the curve of her shoulder, and she nods. She's here.

The rest of her clothing falls away under his carefully placed fingers, and, standing before him naked, she watches as his gaze lingers on her body, tracing the current marks and blemishes that add to those that remain permanent.

"It will heal."

He tears his scrutiny away from her ribs as she offers the empty reassurance, his eyes staring into hers, and the torment in him spreads across the narrow gap, a tremor breaking out along her skin. Again. The look of misery encased within his expression rips shreds from her soul.

"As long as _you_ heal, Kate."

Castle's hand moves slowly, his open palm coming to rest above her heart, his thumb stretching down to the circular scar that stands as proof. She does indeed heal.

His desire to mend what he believes is broken bleeds through the skin on his hand, and she smiles. Regardless of her anxiety and worry about what has happened, about what will happen next, his touch reminds her once more that she's not broken, not by a long shot.

"You could kiss it better?"

The distress in his eyes lessens, not completely but enough to soften the harshness that she can see has crawled inside. The corner of his mouth edges higher as he leans forward, his lips brushing the patch of skin above his hand.

And he kisses her heart.

"See, Rick? It fixes everything."

He nods as he steps back. His fingers move frantically across his clothes, shedding the layers he still has on, until he's as naked as she is, and she grins at the time, or lack thereof, that he took.

"You're moving pretty quick for an old man."

He holds out his hand as he shifts himself over the rim of the bath, his stare never leaving hers.

"Quick as a ninja in the right circumstances."

She laughs, even if she doesn't feel anything but trepidation over what she's about to do, and, stepping over the side, her toes make contact with the water.

It's just a bath.

His lips brush hers, a soft breeze that slides against her skin, and she cants toward him, seeks more than she's acquiring.

The water laps around both of her feet as she fuses their bodies together, and purposely ignoring how Castle twists them around, lowers himself backwards into the tub, she instead concentrates on keeping their skin pressed together.

She's down, lying on top of him, her breasts hard against the muscular wall of his chest, their legs a tangled mess that won't be sustainable for more than minutes, but in this second she doesn't care.

It's just a bath and she's submerged inside.

Held within his arms.

* * *

><p>.<p>

I appreciate hearing all your wonderful thoughts on these chapters, thank you so very much xoxo and the Russian was Do you like it? ;-)

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for all their edits on these xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	18. Chapter 18

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x18 – 6x19

The Way of the Ninja - The Greater Good

.

* * *

><p>"Have you guys seen Beckett?" Strolling into the bullpen, Castle heads toward the rest of their team, his gaze searching for his fiancée.<p>

"Hi. I'm good. Thanks for asking. How are you doin', Ryan?" Espo kicks the underside of his partner's chair, and with a glare, Ryan pulls himself closer to his desk.

"I'm fine. Or I was until your foot collided with my ass."

"It wasn't your ass. I hit the chair."

"Yeah, well my ass is sitting on top of the ch-"

"Excuse me, gentleman." Gates' shrill tone carves through the bickering, her glasses perched on the end of her nose as she peers down at them, and Castle slides his foot back, edges slowly away from the confrontation.

"This is not your living room, and I do not need to hear you fighting like siblings over who did what. If you're in need of more work, I would be happy to fill that requirement." Her glare moves away from the pair, and, before she has a chance to turn her displeasure in his direction, Castle scurries off.

That was too close for comfort.

Walking along the corridor, he twists his head back over his shoulder ensuring that he's managed to escape Gates undetected - the last thing he needs to be is a pain in her ass, again - and he has _thankfully_, no one's followed.

"Whatcha doing?"

He jumps sideways, a squeak rushing past his lips before he can stop the sound and with a hand to his chest, he looks through the open door of interrogation two. Sitting behind the desk in the chair normally reserved for their perps, Kate waves, her fingers gesturing with a grace that's all woman.

"Nothing. I'm doing nothing. Just looking for you." He hovers in the doorway, darting his gaze from her, to the food on the table and back out into the corridor. "What are _you _doing?"

Her shoulder shrugs and the outfit she's wearing captures his attention. He'd missed her as she'd dressed for work this morning, and damn, she's encased in a high, white collared shirt and the black tie that serves more than one purpose.

Serves more than one master.

"Just having lunch."

Bending forward, her elbows come to rest on either side of the plastic food container, and he furrows his forehead, his thumb jerking behind him.

"Don't we normally eat in the break room?"

Her smile, close-lipped and as sexy as hell, gives nothing away, her finger trailing in and around the sushi rolls that are soaking in their sauce, before she lifts it to her mouth. Flickering her tongue out - the sight nearly brings him to his knees - Kate licks the tip clean, her head slanting to one side.

"Normal is boring."

Oh. _Ohhhh_. He sees where this is going. The image before him makes sense, well a little bit more than it was a second ago.

And he's more than willing to play his part.

Taking a seat in the chair opposite Beckett, he reclines, arching his arms back as he flexes his biceps underneath the coat he still has on, his right ankle coming to rest on his left knee.

"Have you had a boring morning without me?"

Her nail digs into her plump bottom lip, amusement igniting her features until she's aglow with the light, and her shoulder lifts again.

"I thought you'd be back from your meeting by ten? I expected to hear from you by ten."

He almost claps at how she's woven his past misdemeanors into their current conversation, but instead he reaches forward, tapping the microphone between them.

"Is this thing on? Should I be worried that anything I say now might be used against me at a later date?"

Her perfect line of an eyebrow arches, yet the rest of her features remain completely still . Until her head moves with one quick shake.

"It's not on."

"That doesn't answer my question. Am I being recorded? Are you wearing a wire?" He spreads his fingers wide on the metal surface as he leans across the table. "Should I perform a strip search just to be sure?"

Her façade slips. He watches as she fights not to laugh, but in a blink of an eye, Badass Beckett is back.

Slapping her palms down, she's out of her chair, the steel scraping along the floor, and yet all he can stare at is how her tie now dangles over her lunch, how he could reach forward and wrap his fingers around the material.

If they were anywhere else, he would crush his lips to hers, steer her by that tie toward the nearest wall and show her just how very _unboring _their life together will be.

But they're not. Therefore, he can't…

And then with all the stealth of a tiger, she stalks her way around the edge of the table, the tops of her fingers trailing along as if gliding through sand, and as she perches herself next to him, her back arching, she drags the container of sushi toward them.

He's pretty sure that he's dead, and this is an out of body experience.

"Do you enjoy good Japanese, Castle?"

Plucking one of the rolls between her thumb and finger, she brings it to her mouth, her lips sliding over the entire circumference, and he's forced to swallow, hard.

It's not the only thing that's hard.

"Did you know that sushi first originated in Southeast Asia, moving through China, before becoming a part of the Japanese culture?"

She chokes, a cough that sounds more rice than air, and he jumps up, waving his hands in alarm. What the hell does one do for choking these days?

"What in the world is going on in here?"

Pivoting on the spot, his jaw drops as Gates stands in the doorway, her wrists pushing back the hem of her jacket, her hands resting on her hips.

Uhhh.

He points a finger in her direction, before turning back to Kate, whose cough sounds like a dry hack compared to a death rattle, and seeing that she hasn't turned blue, he attempts to explain.

"We were just having lunch, when Beckett choked on a sushi roll."

Why does that sound a lot dirtier than he intended?

"And there's something wrong with the break room? Some reason you're hiding in here like bad cops hiding from IA?"

He thrashes his head from side to side, forces his lips together lest he say anything else that will incriminate them further, and after a pointed glare and a wave indicating they should exit, Gates marches away from them.

Geez, they only just dodged a throwing star there.

* * *

><p>.<p>

I had so much fun with this chapter! Hope you enjoyed after the heavy nature of the last. Thank you for all your amazing sweetness there xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie (Happy Birthday!) and Jo for all your effort xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	19. Chapter 19

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x19 – 6x20

The Greater Good - That '70s Show

.

* * *

><p>The drawn-out, stabbing pain begins at the lower edge of her right temple and slashes across her forehead, flaring every time she lists from foot to foot, her four-inch heels mocking her movements. The late nights sneaking around are becoming an issue, especially when they still have to be out and about, living their normal lives as well.<p>

If ever there were a time to disappear without a trace, tonight - right here, right now - would be good.

"Katherine, is everything all right?"

Turning, Kate pushes a smile onto her lips, straightening her posture. She'd be surprised if she could fool the knowing eye of Martha Rodgers, but it's worth a try. The last thing she wants to be is the party's kill joy.

"Wonderful. And can I say what an amazing performance tonight was?" She lifts her glass of champagne toward the actress, her carefully chosen praise having the desired effect. Martha raises her drink, tapping it gently, the ping ringing out as she gestures toward the crowd. Considering the after party consists of just the cast and their friends, the room throbs with noise.

"Oh, darling, why I merely let the talent that flows through these old veins come alive on stage. And these marvellous men and women allow that creativity to blossom, blessing those that are fortunate to be sitting in the audience."

Nodding along, her lips firmly pressed together, Kate scans those dancing and drinking the night away, looks discreetly for an alcove or a secluded corner to hide in. It's only been an hour and it's far too early to slink away, but standing in the deep orange, retro dress she'd discovered last time she'd been shopping is no longer an option.

She has to sit down before she passes out.

"Have you seen Richard?" Martha's question penetrates the pain-induced fog she's currently in the middle of, and, shaking her head, Kate brings the glass to her lips. If she could just take the piercing pain down to a dull roar, she might be able to last another hour or so.

"Were you looking for me, Mother?"

Kate leans sideways, canting toward his voice, and he slips his hands around her sides, his arms encompassing her from behind.

"Why, yes. Where have you been?"

There's silence as he dots a kiss to her exposed neck, his mouth warm and open against her skin, and she closes her eyes, her fingers curling over his until they rest together on top of her stomach.

"I found the cupcake table. I'd have brought some back with me, but there are two sisters having a rather nasty fight over them. Best to avoid while waiting for their family feud to resolve itself."

Martha waves a hand, dismissing his not so courageous tale, and, patting his shoulder, she stares at him.

"Be a dear and take Katherine home. As much as I'm sure you both enjoyed my take on the exciting world of corruption and greed, and how the mighty fall," Martha looks Kate square in the eyes, and she becomes immobile under the older woman's intense gaze, "You, kiddo, need several Advil and a good massage. Neither of which you are going to find here."

Leaning out of Castle's embrace, she wraps her arms around Martha, gritting her teeth against the blaze burning its way through her head.

"Thank you. I really did have a wonderful time tonight." But, oh, she's ever so glad to be saying her good byes. "You have such a way with everything from your students to your set. Inspiring."

She cants back, consumes the rest of her champagne in one mouthful, and as the bubbles burst rather deliciously, she realizes that this is definitely not her first glass… probably not even her second…

"Well, funny you should say that, as I was thinking only this morning about some features of your upcoming nuptials. What do you think about having the Blue Angels flying overhead?" Martha raises her hands into the air, the rings on her fingers dazzling as she waves them about. "I guarantee your guests, whenever you do work out who is coming, will be talking about your wedding for years to come."

Shutting her eyes for a second, Kate edges closer toward Castle. That would be one way to start proceedings with a bang.

"Mother, that's… thoughtful of you. But not really the impact we're hoping for."

Martha huffs, her face falling along with her hands as she slumps before them and it has Kate speaking. Without thinking. "_But_, we could do with some ideas for the flower arrangements."

"We could?"

She elbows Castle and he coughs into her shoulder before whispering into her ear, "How much have you had to drink?"

Patting him on his cheek, she grins, ignoring both him and the alarm bells ringing rather loudly in her head. It's less about the alcohol and more to do with being unable to resist a Castle in distress. Even if Martha is actually a Rodgers. Those genes are powerful, and the more time she spends in their company, the more often she finds herself agreeing to the most ill-advised, misguided ideas.

Why should she start saying no now?

"Darlings, I would be honored." Throwing her arms around them both, Martha squeezes hard, and Kate groans at the pressure. "Oh, home right away. Don't you worry about a thing, though. I will find something truly spectacular."

Whoops.

"Nothing big. Something that suits us. Low key. Simple." Well that's mainly her, but Castle nods, and she has to hope that Martha is listening.

"Of course. Now, scram. Off you go and let my son's magic fingers do their best work on you." Martha darts a peck onto both their cheeks in turn, pivoting in a colorful haze of silk and jewels, and Kate takes a deep breath, keeps her gaze purposely away from Castle's. God forbid she starts laughing hysterically in the middle of the party.

"I need bleach." His statement doesn't help, and she stretches her fingers out to her side, blindly searches for his hand. They have to get out of here immediately.

"I need to feel something other than a thousand barbs shredding my head to pieces."

Her confession seems to kick him into gear, his hand finding hers, and as he twirls their fingers together, he steers them toward the nearest exit, his solid form parting the gathering like the red sea.

Never has she been more grateful to follow his lead then at this moment.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Typing 6x20 nearly had me weeping for joy, the fact that I can count in hours without sounding crazy (at least to most) did release a tear!

Thank you again for still being here xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for all your hard work xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	20. Chapter 20

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x20 – 6x21

That '70s Show - Law and Boarder

.

* * *

><p>The dial tone continues to sound, the same mocking notes that he's heard the last three times he's attempted to call, and with a heavy sigh that no one but the bored gift shop attendee hears, Rick hangs up. Being on a fly in, fly out weekend book tour is bad enough, but to do so and not be able to reach his fiancée is bordering on cruel.<p>

"Are you going to buy that, Sir?"

Pocketing his phone, Castle looks up at the teenager in charge of the shop. If he wanted to buy it, wouldn't he be at the counter with the game and not still standing in the aisle? Then again, he has nothing else to do and he _is _the reigning champion of Scrabble. Maybe he should grab a new edition, spend the night brushing up on his mad skills and challenge Beckett upon his return.

Show her that she's not just marrying good looks, but one hell of a brain as well.

"Sure, I'll take it." Bringing the board game over, he smiles, digging out his wallet. "Nothing beats a good game of Scrabble."

The look of disbelief on the teenager's face says otherwise, but Rick's phone starts chirping happily from his pocket, and he stretches his lips further, his hands all thumbs as he grabs for the device.

"Beckett!"

"Hey, Castle." Her greeting flows through the phone, more whisper than words and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, his body falling down an inch. Whether it be one hour or one day, he misses not being by her side.

"Everything okay?" Tossing some money down, he bundles his new purchase under his arm, his shoulder holding his cell in place as he shoves his wallet into his back pocket, and, flashing a grin at the shop assistant, he pockets his receipt, almost runs for the door.

And there's no reply from Kate.

His teeth press firmly onto the inside of his gums, but he can wait her out, he can, and his patience pays off. Bounding up the stairs to the third floor - his upcoming wedding has nothing to do with his sudden need for exercise - he finally hears a response.

"Sorry. I'm hiding out in Tori's tech room."

He expects a quiet giggle, a crack about finding something she shouldn't see concealed in the corner of the room, but there's only more silence. A silence that expands across the many miles between them.

"Kate, is everything okay?" His heart thumps against his ribs, sweat beading along his hairline and yet it has nothing to do with the stairs he's just climbed. Damn why is he here and not there?

"Yeah. Hey, sorry. I'm okay promise. Gates has just been… Let's just say she picked up a couple of hints on how to terrorize at the terror conference, even if it ended early." She does laugh then, even if all he can hear is a breathless huff of it, and he slows his run toward his room into a walk. "And despite her good mood at the party, certain members have been running with the 70's theme long past its death."

"Ohhh. I'm missing all the good pranks."

"LT walked past her office and asked Ryan where Captain Castle was. Gates was behind him, not that he realized until it was too late, and the result was not pretty. Or groovy. Or swell."

"The disco ball fell with a bang then?"

"Yes, Castle. A spectacular one. One that has seen me pulling extra hours."

Opening his hotel door, he blindly elbows the light switch, and failing, he tosses the board game in the general direction of his bed, his fingers doing a much better job of illuminating the room.

"Did you get to go dress shopping with Lanie?"

Her sigh brushes his cheek, even if it's all in his head, and he slumps to the floor, his back pushing the door closed the last few inches. She'd been so excited to go looking for a bridesmaid dress, and it hurts to think that it's partly his fault for her missing out on the occasion.

Maybe more than partly.

"I had some time between interviews this afternoon. Well, I made some time, and I think I've found the one. It will just be easier for Lanie to go in for the fittings by herself given both our schedules. I just hope she likes it."

There's a strain of trepidation that he rarely perceives in her voice, and his arms ache to hold her, to tug her into his side, to kiss away any apprehension she might have about the wedding, about her choices for their day. It's the beginning of their lives together, the fairy tale ending that draws to a close all that they've been through in this era of their relationship; how can it be anything but perfect?

"She'll love it. How could she not? She loves you."

Kate sighs again, but as the sound reaches his ears he notices that it's softer this time, rounded edges and a tired weight that has him wondering if she's still awake.

"If I have a maid of honor, you need a best man."

Oh. Wow. Yeah.

"It's always seemed so far off. I haven't really thought about who to ask." Suddenly what seemed months and months away can now be counted in weeks and a decision needs to be made.

"An acquaintance with whom you trust the five minute speech that could, potentially, ruin the rest of your life."

He laughs at that, his head knocking into the wood behind him, and as he raises a palm to rub the now tender spot, he has to ask. "What are you reading?"

"The Urban Dictionary. According to them, Epso and Ryan are out of the running."

"I-" An idea pops into his head, a light bulb above that quickly becoming brighter the more he thinks about it.

"What, Castle?"

"I could ask Alexis." He inhales sharply. "I know it's a bit odd. She's not a guy, but she'll make an adorable best man, and of all the people besides you that I want there, she's it. And-"

"Castle-"

"I think-"

"Rick!"

"Sorry."

Her giggle brings a halt to anymore rambling, and he closes his eyes, mentally prepares himself to listen to her opinion.

"Rick, I think it's a wonderful idea. And there's no one better to stand on your other side than Alexis."

Thankfully, with his eyes shut, the tears have no way to escape and he breathes deeply until the moment passes.

"I'll ask her when I get home, and Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For loving me. Loving all of me."

He doesn't come into this marriage with empty hands, his baggage lies scattered at his feet, but it doesn't matter to her, he knows this. Just as her past has no bearing on how much he loves every part of her.

"Always, Castle."

* * *

><p>.<p>

Thank you for making my Friday so much more bearable with all your support xoxo

Never have I wished a weekend away as I am wishing this one to disappear!

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for making the hours go quicker coco

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	21. Chapter 21

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x21 – 6x22

Law and Boarder - Veritas

.

* * *

><p>She ducks automatically as a car drives past, their headlights illuminating the interior of their van for a second, but it continues on, innocently moving along the streets of downtown New York.<p>

Unlike them.

Castle doesn't move in the passenger seat, his head lolled to the side, his shoulders slumped. He's probably dozing off, the late hour taking its toll on him. She doesn't mind, though, he's here, beside her. They are doing this together.

But he leaves on a plane tomorrow, and then what does she do?

The last two trips away have been weekend sprees, but not this one. It's his last tour before the wedding and she's waiting for the argument when he realizes that this project can't stop just because he has to go.

"I can hear you thinking from here."

Snorting, she stretches across the large console between them, poking him low in the ribs. The van is a purchase that leaves her lying awake at night, and while the transaction was made through a guy Castle knows, has no ties to them, she can't help the panic that laces her determination.

The apprehension that they'll be spotted tailing Simmons, photographing his movements every chance they get, and now, with Jason, their operation feels more freefall than organized. Not that a bit of anxiety will stop her; she will get justice for her mom, for Montgomery, and for the other victims. They're close and the sensation crawls along her skin, raising the hairs at the back of her neck. It's just a matter of time.

All it takes is one slip up from Simmons, Bracken, anyone that can tie the two together, and the camera that rests in its holder will capture every detail of what goes down.

They just have to be patient and wait.

"And what am I thinking, then?"

His head turns toward her, his eyebrows wiggling like caterpillars across his forehead, and she grins, her thumb lifting to trace the smooth square of skin between them.

"You're thinking that since I fly out tomorrow and this place is as dead as our sex life is about to be, we should make the most of it by christening the back of this van."

Her laughter explodes, but she quickly pushes her lips together, tries to silence the noise that comes with his statement. Yes, that's exactly what she was thinking. Not.

"I was actually thinking that we should abstain from sex in the lead up to the wedding. You know, make the event more special." Biting the inside of her cheek, she schools her features into what are hopefully smooth unreadable planes, and his jaw crashes to the floor.

"That maybe the cruelest thing you've ever said, Beckett." His head shakes, and as he shifts himself sideways, leans into her personal space, his hand nudges her thighs apart, his palm dipping the cushion under her rear.

"First you desolate my manhood through your stunning Scrabble abilities-"

"I fixed that with Strip Poker."

"And now you want to force me into cold showers for nearly three weeks." His mouth hovers above her cheek, drifts until he is the tiniest fraction away from her lips. "Newsflash, Beckett. I don't think you could do that to me, let alone yourself."

She's not going to move, not going to launch forward and make him put his mouth to a far better use. She can bluff her away out of any situation when her back is against the wall.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Castle."

"I'm talking about how your body is positively vibrating with libidinal energy. You want me, Beckett."

She arches an eyebrow, struggles to ensure her mouth doesn't twitch, doesn't portray her amusement.

"I want you? Really? And, Rick, vibrating with _libidinal_ energy? Have Storm sales been that bad that you're forced to publish Harlequin romances now?

His tongue flickers, his eyes black pools, the streetlight at the corner throwing nothing but barely-there shadows within the van, and she continues holding still.

"Libidinal, the adjective of libido; sexual instinct, lust, desire, Beckett. Exhibit A, _you_."

He's right, and damn it, he knows it too. She's not conceding defeat though - they have that in common - she will fight to the death to keep putting one foot in front of the other when it matters.

Not that the stakes are that high at the moment. Still, she's going to win this round.

"And yet, I'm the one sitting here, minding my own business. It's you who's in my personal space. It's you who seems to be oozing lascivious thoughts. " She stretches out each syllable of _lascivious_, her lower lip brushing his skin as she emphasizes each sound, and his eyes roll back into his head, his body falling away from hers as he tumbles into the passenger seat with a thud.

"My heart can't take that kind of torture, Beckett. Not when I can't do anything about it." He sits up straighter, his hand wrapping around her knee, and he squeezes. "But, like those elephants on your desk, I have a long memory too. And one day, when you least expect it, I'm going to surprise you, torture you slowly with all the ways that I know your body, and I will win this war."

She smiles, draws her lips wide, and, flashing her teeth, she shakes her head.

"I'm still waiting from the last time you promised to get me back, and that doesn't sound much like torture, Castle. It sounds a lot like pleasure."

"There's a fine line between pleasure and pain."

Reaching for him, she crashes her mouth against his, slipping her tongue between his lips, and as their teeth collide, her breath exits in a gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders. There's a fine line but it's fun to dance back and forth over it.

Time becomes irrelevant, the feel of him, the heavy scent of them, drives all thoughts, both good and bad away. There's no tomorrow, no yesterday, just this second, him in her arms, his body wedged against hers in the small space at the front of the van.

He jerks back with a pop, his gaze hitting hers with an intensity that would take her breath away - if she had any left.

"You're not kissing me good bye. And you're not going to do anything reckless while I'm away." His palms warm the side of her face as he cups her within his large hands. "I'm marrying you. End of story. Nothing is getting in the way of that."

She nods, her eyes fixed on his. She'll walk that fine line too. The one that exists between getting the information they need and not getting into danger. She'll get justice for the secrets of the past. Expose the truth to the world.

For her mom. For herself. For them.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Sorry about the typo with the last chapter, 20 was after That '70s Show not The Greater Good!

Thank you for continuing to enjoy this fic, your lovely words means so much to me xoxo

I typed in Veritas and a sob escaped (mostly due to feels ;-)

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo for being there even after all these chapters xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	22. Chapter 22

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x22 – 6x23

Veritas - For Better Or Worse

.

* * *

><p>He stands to one side, his eyes glued to Kate's profile, the stoic mask she wears as she fidgets from foot to foot, the nervous energy spilling from her into every direction, and he breathes it in, absorbs her through his skin, attempts to take what he can from her.<p>

That's not to say that his body isn't coursing with the same sensation. This is one hell of a moment, and he can't help the churning in his own stomach, or the fluttering of his fingers against his pants. Mostly it's the worry that he shouldn't be here, that this meeting doesn't involve him. He may have been by her side through the ups and downs that led to this day, but before there was him and his inability to leave a mystery unsolved, there was just the two of them.

It started that way, not with him, and he can't help but feel this epic journey should end with them. Just them.

"I'm glad you're here."

Reading his mind in the way only she can, Kate whispers as she continues to stare at the door, her stance unwavering. The wait for it to be answered seems to stretch disproportionately to the time that has actually passed, and he exhales the tangled mess of emotions that clog his throat.

At least he's right where he should be.

The door swings inward, and Rick snaps his gaze away from Kate, his eyes traveling over the anxious expression on Jim's face, the way his body deflates as he stares at his daughter.

The older man's age has increased exponentially since the last time they'd seen each other. The lines of his face are deeper, chiseled canyons of worry, his shoulders hunched as if he's attempted to turn in on himself, and Rick looks down at his shoes unwilling to witness the toll this has taken on Kate's father.

They'd been so busy fighting for their lives, fighting to keep ahead of the speeding bullet that Bracken had fired, that their family has paid the price, has begun to buckle under the burden of their silence.

"Oh, Katie." Jim's quiet greeting morphs into a smothered sob, and Rick raises his head, catching sight of them embracing.

He doesn't remain an outside observer for long though. Jim's hand stretches in his direction, and blindly grips onto his shoulder, edging Rick closer.

With the disaster and the triumph, the roller coaster that has been their lives of late, he sometimes forgets that the Becketts who stand before him are, in less than two weeks, about to be his lawful family. Not just in his heart, but also with a simple piece of paper; their marriage license will recognize their bond for the world to see.

This man is about to be his father-in-law, and Castle lifts a hand, squeezing Jim's shoulder.

Pulling back from them both, Kate brushes away the hair that clings to her lips, her hands shaking, and as the strands fall forward again, Castle tucks the loose curls behind her ear with steady fingers.

Her partner. Her rock. He can do this for her, prop her up so she can do what she came here to do.

"Dad, we did it. We got him."

Jim nods, the moisture of unshed tears glistening in his eyes as he watches his daughter.

"I saw, Katie. I saw, and I'm so proud of you. So proud that you put him behind bars, that he'll pay for the crimes that he's done. For what he did to-" His Adam's apple bobs rapidly and Castle looks away, gives Jim a moment.

The hell that Bracken inflicted won't magically disappear now that he's behind bars. The pain he caused will continue to remain long after his body has rotted, but Castle hopes that with this victory there will be a thread of peace for all the lives devastated by the disgraced Senator.

"It's over, Dad. I'll never forget, but I can leave it behind me now." Kate's fingers slide through Rick's free hand, and he holds her tight. "The past can't hurt me, _us_, anymore."

With her other hand, she reaches into her shirt, and, pulling the necklace out, she grips the ring between her thumb and finger. "Mom was there. It was her work that led to his arrest. Her brilliant thinking that had her hiding the tape in plain sight. And even though it took all this time for me to work it out, it was mom whispering in my ear about family that had me realizing the truth."

Jim shakes his head, his fingers dusting across the band that must symbolize so much to him, yet still he withdraws his hand.

"Your future is at your feet, Katie. You can have a life free from her burden; _you_ deserve a life free from that burden. You deserve to be happy, to enjoy every second from now on. You both do." Shuffling backward, Jim waves them inside, his spine appearing to straighten before them, his shoulders becoming squared.

"Now, I want to hear about some of the wedding plans. Do you need help with anything? Because all you need to do is call, I'll be there in a jiffy."

Smiling, Kate turns, her eyes meeting Rick's, her teeth flashing before she focuses on her dad again.

"Nope, everything is perfect. The rooftop garden we found is stunning, and when I stood up there the first time, it was as if I could touch the stars. There was nothing but them shining down on us."

The air in his lungs wedges itself hard as he watches her gush about their venue, her features softening with the memory of what it was like together on top of the world, and for a fraction of a second, he closes his eyes, his mind forming images that have yet to occur.

Seeing Kate walk toward him, the dress that will drape perfectly over her body, her hands reaching for his as they stand before their most treasured family and friends to exchange their vows, become husband and wife.

He's about to marry the love of his life and nothing has ever felt so right.

* * *

><p>.<p>

There's one more to go. It seemed fitting that this journey started with Castle's thoughts, and thus it should end with Beckett's. Just over twenty-four hours to go and how I'm supposed to be forming any type of coherent thought is beyond me!

Thank you for helping me get to this point (mostly) sane xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo, who put up with my crazy xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


	23. Chapter 23

.

The distance between two

.

One scene – A thousand words (ish)

The same challenge as last year; to see if I could create a linking moment between each Season Six episode.

One chapter a day until Season Seven arrives.

Wish me luck.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

6x23 – 7x01

For Better Or Worse - (spoiler ;-)

.

* * *

><p>The flames engulf the vehicle below her, fiery red tentacles that rise from his car, and the dread that's been building in her veins reaches breaking point, spilling forth, coating her cheeks in tears. She'd thought the ride from the house was torture, gripping the seat that divided her from the driver, but nothing compares with the anguish that shudders through her chest, rips open her heart, until the jagged shards fall to her feet.<p>

Nothing's gone to plan. From the moment they'd stood, waiting to apply for their marriage license, everything she'd hoped for, dreamed and imagined has unraveled before her, and now…

She can't come back from this, the darkness that's closing in, her vision narrowing until the only thing before her is the inferno. A blaze that's consuming more than metal and upholstery, it's consuming…

Castle.

Her head trembles, attempts to shake that thought away. No. No, this isn't how their story ends. There has to be a ray of sunlight somewhere, some glimmer of hope, someone to hold her by her shoulders and tell her everything's going to be okay. It has to be okay, _he _has to be okay, because she's been there, faced life without him, and she can't go through that again.

It's been less than a year since she'd held his hand, broke the news that he'd been poisoned, that unless a miracle occurred he only had hours to live. But they'd done the impossible - they always do - and within the week she'd been standing at his side, telling him that her home was in his arms as he'd prepared to leave on a flight back to New York.

She can't lose that, can't lose the home that she's found in him.

There's so much that they haven't had a chance to do. The last box still needs to be packed, the items that linger in her old apartment are ready to be moved into the loft with the rest of her belongings, ready to join her clothes that snuggle against his in the closet.

How can she return there? How can she stand under the shells that signify their life together… stand alone in their bedroom?

Her lungs burn, the lack of air in her body swaying her slightly backward, her automatic nervous system forced to take over, and she inhales, breathes in enough oxygen to survive. Yet, the traces of smoke clinging to each molecule become wedged in her throat, morphing into a sludge that will drown her.

And she closes her eyes.

The panic that's rising now isn't new, she's faced this feeling far too often of late, but she'd overcome the sensation every time. The bullet that had dotted his _i_, the vest that now hangs on his wall is a testament to the fact that luck shines on Castle.

She doesn't have to imagine after all, what it is to drown, just how much her body can be deprived of air before her vision becomes hazy, and she draws in another jagged breath. She'd conquered that fear; with Castle by her side, she'd won against the faceless evil.

He'd been by her side throughout every battle this year, his hand had curled around her own, and her fingers stretch against her wedding dress, reach for his. Except she finds nothing to grasp, nothing but material. That and the reminder that he's not here.

Please, don't be in the car.

Stepping forward a fraction, the toe of her shoe catches the long, lace hem of her mom's gown, and, burying her nails in its beauty, a sob breaks free. She'd cried then too, when her dad had stood in the doorway, his eyes shimmering with tears. He'd been speechless, had merely stared as the hands on the clock had spun around, until finally, with a gutted whisper, he'd confessed to having hoped for this day.

For her to stand before him in her mother's wedding dress.

The story had cascaded from him, how he'd searched and found it in storage, how he'd wanted to tell her in person only to run into the delivery of the large white box. He'd let them in, had taken a peek inside and discovered that she had Matilda's crystal encased designer gown awaiting this day.

Acquiring a piece of her mom's past had been one of the few moments of joy in what has otherwise been a horrendous three days. Disaster after disaster. Yet those glimpses of happiness had occurred; when Martha had handed over her earrings, when they'd seen what their family and friends had done in their absence. How Alexis had apparently taken charge, had taken it upon herself to go above and beyond what was needed; it's a far cry from the tension that had rocked both Castle and his daughter last fall.

And while it wasn't space, or as near as they could get - their rooftop venue had been impressively close with the stars above them - the Hampton's lawns are stunning, exceeding her little overgrown garden a million times over. She'd wandered the grounds, and had experienced a calm that, for at least a little while, led her to believe that everything was going to be okay, better than okay, their day was going to be perfect.

Their wedding was going to be spectacular, their honeymoon to the Maldives the most delicious of cherries on top of the most amazing of events. It was the day she was supposed to be his wife. He was supposed to slide another ring alongside the diamond that sits proudly on her left hand. They were supposed to be dancing to _their_ song…

What does she do now?

She knows devastation, knows what it is to struggle for her life - was that less than two weeks ago? - knows what it is to search and search for answers that slide like sand through her fingers, and, as the heat washes over her, feels as if it's searing every layer of her skin, she faces another battle, another war.

This time it won't be about justice for a life lost years ago, it won't be about finding closure for herself, her dad, for the families that mourned without knowing why their loved ones were gone.

The fight before her is for the man who has captured her heart, who's loved by a mother, a daughter, brothers in arms, friends and fans, all because he lightens their lives, brings wonder into each day.

The fight before her is for her partner, her fiancé, her - come hell or high water - future husband.

Because the possibility that he's down there, that she doesn't have anything left to fight for…

That will destroy more than just him.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Hours (sob), there's just hours, and besides the common sense stuff (don't laugh ;-) I've managed to stay spoiler free and I'm half dead as a result. The anticipation of what is about to occur has fractured me, and damn I am just so very excited (as I'm sure most of us are).

Thank you to those that have left words of support and encouragement along the way, they've helped overcome the longest twenty-three days of the year, and have brought about the largest of smiles xoxo

.

Thank you to Jamie and Jo, for your hard work, friendship, and flails xoxo

.

Thank you for reading xoxo


End file.
